My kitchen sink was once the site of my greatest sorrow, but is now home of my redemption.
As the evening fills the sky outside, I am often standing in front of a sink full of dishes and a messy house, counting down the minutes until I can do an hour or two of leisure activities before bed.
If it sounds constricting, that’s because it once was. In the years just after my daughter was born I often felt underwater at the amount of work that our family required each evening — making dinner, cleaning up, putting my daughter to bed, prepping the food for the next day, and catching up with any work things that slipped through the cracks earlier in the day.
I’ve learned how to make it easier — my husband and I have clear ways to share the load, we set a timer for Leonie’s bath, simplify the evening meal, and finally admitted we had to stop grinding our own flour (we flew too close to the foodie sun on that one). Even with these loopholes, sunset can still send me into a state of dread.
So how do I keep showing up consistently without going off the edge?
Gita to the Rescue
There is a teaching in The Bhagavad Gita that has comforted me since I first heard it: every action we take can become a spiritual practice if we gaze upon it in a certain light. That light is one that recognizes that when we devote ourselves to what life is asking of us, our resistance softens, we can let go of what’s unnecessary, and our path becomes clearer.
I don’t want to do dishes. I don’t want to sweep the bits of rice from lunch and breakfast oats from the floor. I don’t want to lead an elaborate bedtime routine for my daughter. I don’t want to go to bed by 9:30 and wake up before sunrise.
But life is asking me to cook at home 99% of the time, so the kitchen must be orderly. Life is asking me to move my body every morning, so I have to have a clean floor on which to lay my yoga mat. Life is asking me to build a loving foundation for this sparkling gem of a child, and that includes bathtime. And life is definitely asking me to show up every day for my clients, myself, and my family, so getting a solid night’s sleep and a morning practice prepares me to hold this space.
I have no choice but to consistently devote myself to this.
Pain vs. Pleasure
In the face of the “I don’t wannas” of life it’s easy to focus on the pain. Our minds begin to obsess about the pain, ignoring the truth that not a single problem has ever been solved through an intensive exploration of misery alone.
Want to know what has solved problems? Pleasure.
Pleasure is what transforms my evening routine into a life-giving spiritual practice instead of a depleting grind. I actively engage in sensual, mindful pleasure as I work my way through the evening. I listen to my favorite songs or podcasts as I clean. I soak in the pleasure of the way my hard work transforms dirty to clean. I relax into a playful and nourishing bedtime routine with Leonie. And then, when it’s all done, I prioritize joy. I dance or do gentle asana, read in bed, study something that fills me up, or play a game of Backgammon with my husband.
Pleasure is what turns the drudgery we have to consistently show up for into an act of devotion.
Reach for Pleasure
Complaining is a popular pastime. But complaints hold little worth — they come from a well we can drink from endlessly but remain thirsty.
If we want to give up a bad habit, we must replace it with a good one. So I’ll offer a different game — can you consistently reach for pleasure instead?
Pleasure Practice
It sounds easy, but bringing pleasure into your life requires a lot of practice. Indeed, pleasure seekers must be as disciplined as the top athletes. The only difference is that this kind of conditioning is much easier to endure.
I’ve listed a couple of exercises below to get you started on your daily pleasure cruise. You don’t have to do them all. You don’t have to do any of them. But what if you played with them, drawing them into your life with a curious and attentive attitude? Imagine the possibilities.
- Journaling prompts. It wouldn’t be a SevaMama exercise if it didn’t involve a journal. So grab your pen and contemplate these:
– Write about the most pleasurable experience of your life. What happened? Were you alone or with someone? What kinds of body sensations came during the experience? How did you feel afterward?
– When have you been punished for pleasure? Explore that experience and pull out the underlying messages you received. Are those messages still present? Are they true? - Get outside/go inside. Whether it’s a nature hike or a chair in your backyard, find at least 30 minutes to go outside anywhere you can see nature (a tree from your apartment balcony works). Choose any level of activity or inactivity you like, but stay focused on your breath. Inhale deep into your pelvis, exhale from your pelvis up to the crown of your head. As you breathe, notice the world around you and your inner response to it. What shifts? What softens? Does anything feel inhibited? You can journal about this or contemplate in your mind.
- Sensual eating. We are meant to experience pleasure through our senses, but we often rush through sensual experiences, such as eating, and miss out on the gold that’s there. So slow down. Pick your favorite foods (best if they are warm, juicy, naturally sweet, and unctuous). Leave your phone in another room and enjoy silence or a playlist of gentle music. Set the table. Before you take a bite, explore the food with your eyes and your sense of smell. Use your fingers to eat at least the first bite (messy is great!) and notice the texture and feel. Let the food slide around your tongue and teeth and notice the delight that it brings you. Spend 20-30 minutes with your meal, savoring each bite.
Afterglow
Expect resistance to pleasure. Expect discomfort. Expect your mind to tell you it’s useless. This is all part of the process. It’s a sign you’re pushing up against a very important edge. It’s a sign you’re pushing down that unstable tower of misery.
Practice through the resistance. Reach for pleasure consistently. When you forget (and you will), leave little notes around your home or on your phone (ex: a reminder that pops up at your personal witching hour) that remind you that there is another experience available.
Because there is another experience available.
