The scientists tell us that everything is tending to disorder. Without effort floors lose their shine, piles of clutter mount and tumble, dust settles on everything, creepers climb over buildings shutting out the light, silky locks turn to matted dreadlocks and milk goes sour.
We live in an old house. Like well-worn, favourite pyjamas it has a comforting, lived-in feel. Some people spend lots of money trying to create shabby chic and we just got a whole lot of it without even trying. From the moment we arrived we have been ripping up weeds, cutting back vines, replacing pipes, mending leaks, attending to cracks and if it’s not those nine broken window panes it’s patches of troublesome parquet flooring that need attention. It might have made a lot of sense to have flattened the house and started all over again in the very beginning, but we live here and so bit by bit we attend to what is broken and use whatever creativity, money and muscle power we have at the time to fix things up. This home is like a patchwork quilt of a house and in spite of it’s many faults it comforts and covers us.
I studied Ergonomics when I left school. Ergonomics is all about humans and their environment. It’s about reducing strain and preventing injury as well as increasing productivity. It’s about being mindful of natural laws whilst we do our work. I was never so much interested in the mechanics and forces and theory behind it all as I am for the feeling of it. How high should we go up? How far can you reach? What colour feels best? Does this look balanced? Is there an effortless flow? Is it easy to get to and can you find it when you need it? I want it to work well and be a beautiful sight all at once.
It’s the end of the school year and I am tired. Numerous situations have troubled my soul of late and I also came down with the flu. Add to the mix the extremely necessary task of lifting broken, damp parquet flooring so that we can lay smooth, cement floors and my internal strain levels went berserk. Everyone and their furniture moved from one area of the house into the other. We couldn’t find anything or swing a cat in there, and as the work began, dust settled on everything and we all coughed and the toddler came out in an allergic rash. As if on cue my back, triggered by the unseen strain on my soul, went into spasms. I have discovered that I suffer from something I call “broken-things-anxiety”. Tension builds as the list of broken things grows. I was interested to read of the link between sciatica and emotional stress. The ergonomists will tell you that there is a relationship between strain and injury, but I had never seen such a profound link between body and soul as I did on the day my back began to hurt because my soul was on fire. Unlike physical forces on our musculoskeletal systems, the forces our circumstances play on our hearts and bodies are less easily measured.
I have discovered that one way to reduce tension is to look away from all that is distressing me and focus on another area altogether. Time and again I have used similar measures to restore a sense of well being. It’s not all perfect and it never will be, but letting overwhelm freeze us into unhappy despair is never a good option. I belong to a make believe group of people called the Compulsive Furniture Movers Society. We live all over the world and we understand that sometimes all it takes to bring order and peace is to rearrange the furniture. We create still life using the afternoon sunlight on a bowl filled with apples on the centre of the table beside the arm chair where the cat sleeps. And then we move it all around and put a pot plant where the arm chair was and move the side board ever so slightly to the right. The cat miaows then because her bed is in the wrong place and sometimes sore backs happen because cupboards should never be moved by one person. Once, we put up fairy lights for Christmas and we never took them down. Some things just work and, for me, it’s about positioning lights, candles, lamps, rugs, plants, shelving, storage, a table, a cloth, a cushion, books, pictures, bowls of food and piles of interesting things into pleasing combinations so that someone might sit and appreciate it all and breathe deep. The house might be falling down but for now one pocket of the world is looking lovely and because of it, the “broken things anxiety” is non existent again and the back pain has disappeared. Home is where rest and healing should occur and where family and friends can gather and be restored before heading back out into the wilds. We have all the common sense necessary to create beauty, flow and order so that bodies might rest; great sighs releasing all the stress of the day.
On a side note, there are all kinds of necessary, peculiar, boring, ugly items in our homes but they do not need to bring the whole tone of the home down. A home is a perfect place to practise bringing order, even beauty. Toilet rolls can be stored in a pretty basket, door mats can be cheerfully woven and if I can find a vintage glass pump bottle to decant the dish washing liquid into, all will be well. We talk about the ‘art of stacking’ in our home and it’s to do with the sink area. One day I would like my sons to thrill their wives’ hearts and so I insist on this. Instead of the kitchen sink being an eyesore, I encourage a work of art. I like to think that we are pushing back the darkness one small area at a time, even in the kitchen. There is no use trying to fix the more complicated problems of the world if two mugs and a bowl half full of spaghetti bolognaise crashed to the floor beneath the sink because each member of the family thought they’d just drop and run. It does not matter who lands up washing those dishes – if they are waiting all rinsed, stacked, piled, grouped, glasses closest so that they can go in first, the job will be a more pleasant one. Mother Teresa said we should “wash the plate not because it is dirty nor because you are told to wash it, but because you love the person who will use it next.”
If I ever found myself homeless and had to live in a box, I hope I would have the presence of mind to position it on the hefty boughs of an almighty tree, home to birds and squirrels. I would find a suitable container in a rubbish bin, fill it with wild flowers and put it on top of my cardboard home. I would scratch favourite verses into the bark near my front door and make a mattress of sweet herbs. I am not talking about money here or having access to the latest interior designs, I am talking about a mindset shift where we can see how to create loveliness wherever we go. This is not about just making do, but making the best of what we have. It’s about letting go of the things we cannot do anything about, and getting stuck into areas where we can make a difference. It’s about having eyes to see and a heart open to creating spaces conducive to rest and efficient work, where strain and injury are unwelcome. “Ergonomically designed” is so much more than holding a tool that fits well in your hand in a workshop; it can be embracing your home space and your family’s uniqueness and making everything just right for you and the ones you love, one corner at a time.
Ecclesiastes 3 verse 11
He has made everything beautiful in its time.
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