In a Plastic World...

In that moment, I laughed as I understood that even this irritating plastic 

was being a teacher to me.

 We recently had the interior of our home painted.  The painters came in and covered everything in plastic.  They used two types of plastic – a soft clingy type which they taped up over cabinets, refrigerator, microwave, and another thicker type for the floors. With all the texturing, repairing, masking and painting required, the whole job took about five days to complete.  And the plastic covering remained most of that time. 

By the second day, I noticed I was restless.  I tried taking refuge in the bedroom to work but that wasn't possible; sitting on the plastic covered sofa was unpleasant because I kept slipping down the seat.  My regular meditation spot was crowded with ladders, buckets and hard curling chunks of quick set – all haphazardly piled on the ubiquitous plastic.  A partial explanation for my discomfort was having my routine disrupted by the workmen, but something else was making me fidgety, and I wondered what it was.

Certainly all my usual places – spaces of solitude – were taken from me. On a normal day, the house is quiet, except for the regular drone of the refrigerator or the sounds of the house settling.  Of course, there are days when the house is drowned in music so loud that the whole neighborhood gets to listen in. But this felt like something more was going on. Then I got it.

It occurred to me that the swishing sound of the plastic as it blew in the breeze coming in through the open windows, and the crinkling of it underfoot was strangely unsettling to me.  This constant sound – like wind in the grass or, more sinister, a soft hissing  - was making me anxious and alert.

But the biggest realization was seeing the things that normally signify our living in a space:  tables, chairs, beds, counters, cupboards – draped in plastic made me aware of life’s temporariness.  Our home where we live, entertain, laugh, and cry was being suffocated under mounds of plastic wrap.  In this special space, wherein I create and perpetuate my various identities, its and my impermanence was being spotlighted.  In that moment, I laughed as I understood that even this irritating plastic was being a teacher to me.     

As somebody who teaches mindfulness, I had to remind myself to work with all that was occurring in my environment without wishing for anything to be different.  Being aware of the impact of environmental factors on me, I could then recognize the condition that all human beings struggle against change, and I was made uncomfortably aware of life’s mutability.   

We grow our wisdom when we learn to work with every situation life presents us.  This doesn’t mean we try to change how we approach situations, but rather that we pay attention to how we habitually react to both good and bad situations.  Once our awareness of our own reactions is honed, then we begin to gain insight into our nature and the nature of life.  All that’s required and requested us of is to be present and aware.

May you be present and aware today.