Make Your Space Ready, to Make Your Mind Ready

Because I am artificially organized, not naturally organized, I still feel a faint sense of surprise that Thanksgiving and Christmas come every single year. Already? It’s November?? December???

The holidays (in our family, Thanksgiving, Christmas, plus a birthday and an anniversary) were a shoal upon which my peace of mind regularly foundered… right on schedule. Eventually I set up systems to manage our household preparations, so they are done far in advance*. (This means I’m no longer wrapping gifts at 11:00 p.m. on December 24, which never put me in the holiday spirit.)

Welcoming Guests Without Feeling Rushed

This year we’re hosting family members from out of state. I’m excited to see everyone in person again. Due to the pandemic, however, I feel out of practice with having guests.

My goal is to stay true to my linchpin practice of being unhurried. When I’m hurried, I’m harried; and emotions are contagious. My husband and I have been working together to make our home ready. We want to be unhurried so we can welcome everyone well. This pandemic has made us more conscious of how precious our time in person with family is.

I’m interested in intentional communities because they make visible the systems that allow them to make plenty of time for activities like contemplation, study, or making art.

Much of the daily work of these places (say, a monastic guest house, an artists’ residency) is centered around keeping the space ready to welcome new people. Guest rooms and common areas are kept clean and curated.

This clarity in the environment gives hosts and guests the mental and emotional bandwidth to be available, not distracted. Keeping your head clear is closely linked to keeping your space clear. Making your environment ready for whatever is coming up next, also makes room in your mind to welcome what’s next.

But this is not intuitive for everyone: it certainly wasn’t for me.

Defining When Something Is Done, Is Hard

Because I am artificially organized, I struggled for years with the question of when household tasks were done; which meant I often struggled with being ready.

Defining when something is done is actually hard.

When it comes to deciding whether something is done, we’re constantly in dialogue with ever-changing natural, social, and technological conditions. In the workplace, whole careers center around defining when something is done. And the natural world is continually in transition, so even defining things like when spring arrives is ambiguous. The natural world will not message me that spring of 2022 begins on Sunday, March 20, 2022, at 11:33 am EDT (set your alarms!); besides, where I live, the robins will be back and the crocuses will have bloomed. (To my mind, once I see crocuses and robins, ta da! …it’s spring.)

To define when something is done, you must come up with artificial measures to impose on dynamic processes. That’s why it’s hard.

You are Done When You Make Things Ready to Welcome Whatever Comes Next

Household tasks can be especially tricky.

Are you done with the work of preparing dinner when the table is cleared and the dishes are in the sink?

Is washing dishes a separate task?

For a long time, in my mind, washing dishes was a separate task: in my mind, the task of preparing the meal was done when the table was cleared. And I thought of cleaning up as a separate job. When I was growing up, and in the housing co-op where I lived for a couple of years, this work was always divided — if you cooked, you did not then have to clean up afterward. To my mind, the personnel shift (the cook’s work is done; the cleaner’s work begins) was the moment when dinner was done.

I changed my mind when I heard someone** say that you're done when the space you’ve used for one activity is ready to welcome the next activity, whatever it may be.

The work of preparing a meal is done when the kitchen is ready for you to prepare the next meal — counters wiped down, sink clear, dishes, utensils, and pots and pans clean, and at the ready.

When we use our dining room table for projects, the project isn’t done until the banjo repair kit is put away and the table is ready to be used for anything — whatever comes next. Could be an art project, could be Thanksgiving dinner.

In other words, being done with a project at home is like being ready to welcome a guest.

You prepare the space first. Then you are ready to welcome what’s next.

Until I understood this concept of done being all about the space being ready to welcome the next (whatever it was), holidays were hugely stressful for me. It felt a bit like trying to prepare tonight’s dinner while the pots and pans and dishes from last night are still piled up in the sink.

You pay for the luxury of being relaxed, of being unhurriedly present with your guests, with advance preparation.

But life being what it is, and me being who I am (artificially organized…), I am still sometimes unprepared.

This does not mean I have to forego being present when someone comes.

If the House is a Mess, You Can Still Choose to Be Welcoming

During the pandemic, a dear friend has visited regularly. We sit on the screened porch in the back, which means we have to walk through the rest of the house.

One day my friend came, and the place looked like I had flipped over a recycling bin. My two cats’ favorite toys are packing materials.

A large box, which my paper-shredding cat had happily gnawed on and drooled over, blocked the front door. The rest of the hall was festooned with swatches of bubble wrap, waiting to be popped:

*See? Her work is done. She’s ready for whatever’s next. Maybe catnip.*

I automatically began to apologize for the mess. Then I realized I could feel bad about the state of our house, or I could clear my mind to welcome my friend — to be truly present while my friend was with me.

My choice.

So I said, “I’m going to stop apologizing for the way the house looks. What you see is what you get. Come on in!”

We had a lovely visit. Then as she was heading toward the door to leave, she stopped and pointed at the chewed-up box.

“Next time I come over,” she said sternly, “I expect to see that box in this hall.”

References

Thompson, D. (2019) Three Theories for Why You Have No Time, The Atlantic. Available at: https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2019/12/why-you-never-have-time/603937/ (Accessed: 22 November 2021).

What is Project Management: Definition and Terms | Project Management Guide (no date). Available at: https://www.teamgantt.com/project-management-guide/what-is-project-management (Accessed: 22 November 2021).

‘When Things Are Done – Rhoneisms’ (no date). Available at: https://www.patrickrhone.net/when-things-are-done/ (Accessed: 17 November 2021).

Notes

*I’m now one of those people who shops for Christmas gifts in July, which is my main gift to myself.

**Can’t remember who said that, but obviously the idea resonated for me.