I haven’t lost my mind as yet. Just thought I would emphasize how this most awful of pandemics has reminded me of one of the many simple joys in life.
In a world where we are always caught up in a cacophony of noise, city noise – traffic, horns blaring, sirens, chatter, and suburban blasts – lawn mowers, blowers, stump grinders, truck motors and on and on for both city and suburbs, peace is elusive.
Last week I walked bare footed through the foyer and kitchen and felt grit under my tootsies. This puts me in a frenzy. While I love walking sans shoes and socks I detest the feel of crumbs or crap under my grape stompers.
Normally, Jim or I would drag out the vacuum and give it a whirl over the offensive debris, but it was a mercifully quiet day out here in Suffolk County. I couldn’t stand the thought of yet another motor jarring my world. Then it struck me, I have a broom. Not the battery one, not the plug in model, but an actual straw broom. Not one I would ride but a broom for sweeping. And as an added bonus a dust pan to pick up all that I might collect.
And so I had at it. I went to the broom closet, dug behind the vacuums, swifters, wax mops and so on and found the broom.
It was a Zen experience. I breezed over the floor and molding with almost little effort. A soft, gentle movement of my upper body. Barely a sound was made. I had moments to day dream and hum. Seconds to smile while awash in the simplicity of it all. It was a happening.
What can I say? It was a long forgotten ritual that I will engage in for the foreseeable future. Try it you’ll like the Joy of Sweeping.
Life As I Remember It! 