Do the Housework.
On some days I detest smartphones very much for how they have rewired our brains. I remember how eager I used to be as a teenager to hole up in my room and read for hours, the plots of Sydney Sheldon or the faraway lands of Enid Blyton holding me captive. I remember having no real company growing up but a large garden to run around in - learning to cartwheel on the grass and practicing until my limbs were sore. Today, I find myself unable to finish most books I start reading. As I write this, I have a sudden urge to pull on blades of grass, draw out mud and feel the satisfaction in that subtle tug. Grass has always felt so healing to me.
Where is this going? I have no idea. But read on if you don’t mind my rambling.
I often wonder how connected we are to the ground anymore. We sit on chairs, walk with intention, lie on our beds, move up the floors when selecting an apartment. It is when I sit on the carpeted floor of my room, or take a deep squat on my yoga mat or just lie on the grass that all my restlessness seems to dissipate. The stillness roots me in and I feel a strange sense of calm.
This is Sunder Nursery in Delhi - a miracle in the middle of the urban jungle that the city is. I spent many weekends just lying on the grass here.
Doing things with my hands or body makes me feel similarly. Do you know that sensation when you play with slime or clay? The memory of it is almost tactile. When I started being shown (and enjoying) slime videos on social media, my friends called me odd. Turns out it’s a real thing. It’s probably also why gardening is so relaxing. I have no doubt that I shall one day take to gardening. It matches the image of 50 year old me I have - a sunhat, shorts, freckles and dirty hands. And of course, great hair.
But the point is (I finally seem to have one) that we’re slowly moving from doing to consuming. All the focus required when we use our tactile self has been lost to a visual overload. And it’s easy to feel bored when one of your senses is in overdrive. Doing things, actually using our minds and bodies to perform tasks is intensely satisfying. And I’m not just talking about an hour at the gym, although that can be rewarding too. I’m talking about the simple tasks that we’ve delegated to people or machines.
My grandmother is 80-something and looks at least 15 years younger than her age. For as long as I can remember and to this date, she is in the habit of washing her own clothes and doing her dishes - both by hand. My grandfather would iron clothes so crisp that some folds would last even after washes. He passed on that love of ironing to me and it is both a skill and free therapy. These everyday habits of cleaning up after oneself and performing mundane chores can really help our mental health.
A picture of my grandparents on their trip to South Africa. This was their last trip together before my grandfather passed. They travelled much of the world together. Just a remarkable couple.
While growing up, I would all but clench my teeth when I would help around with chores and be gently rebuked to do it better. ‘The point is that it is getting done,’ I would argue petulantly. ‘No,’ my grandmother would say, ‘the point is to do it well.’ And so I learnt to peel peas and separate them on the basis of size, I furrowed my eyebrows in concentration trying to match seams while ironing clothes, I would fold the napkins creatively and so on. The point, I guess, is to do more things and to add a tinge of mindfulness to them. Not just get done with them, but add some play and skill. Beats doom scrolling for sure.