The sudden sunset

Yesterday I wrote “vacuing some dusty corners means vacuing yourself”. Apparently a case of overrating myself. Or a matter of hubris. Such would be so desirable but reality learns differently.
As I mentioned the “corners”, let me start now to tell what happens when - after a slow and easy opening on the full floor - you reach the stadium of entering into the “impossible corners”. High or low, wherever the stooping, or overreaching begins, I interrupt or stop breathing in a balanced way. Bodily tensions pop up out from nowhere. Far from “emptying” myself  I discover a very old and nasty feeling of impatient irritation. Shit, this ***ing thing does not work as it should. Its more anger than emptyness, what I feel.


The same is happening when I try to reinstall a ceiling lamp. Standing on a stepladder in a position which does not fit the reach of muscle-power you need to get it fixed. Tension grows and a curse comes up. I know that my old and nasty character traits resemble those of my mother and grandfather. But such an insight is of little help if you want to change your inner attitudes in a spiritual way. I’m still far away of an inner state of serenity, when I’m busy doing my household chores. Let alone what happens during that heavy extraction work on the slippery hill-slope.

I have learned that doing such work as a form of exercise in mindfullness is a lot harder than when you have your daily walkaround along the riverside or even when climbing along a steep and difficult track. I know now why I will have to make a new start tomorrow. The beauty of todays vistas and the sudden grandiosity of the scarlet and purple sunset of this evening are long gone. We may not count on the permanence of their counterbalancing power. We should never hope to look away from our dark spots and impossible corners. There all the work has to be accepted and taken on. Every morning anew, as if it were your first.