This morning as I sat with a cup of hot water (before my coffee) and tried to settle into a meditation, I observed myself tending. It occurs to me that I am a tender; as in one who tends. I observed my ritualistic tending with a sense of curiosity.
The observer notes: Here I am, tending to arranging the cups, the candle, the incense, and to the books that help inspire my day. I tend to our dog Tucker and his eyes, which need to be wiped each morning with a soft tissue. I sit and sip and observe. I ensure the water is hot and the coffee is on for my partner; the lemon slices, spoons and mugs are out and ready.
Next, I make my way outdoors for a walk with the dog. I tend to my prayers as I walk, taking in the floral smells while dodging deer flies. I tend to cairns and rock stacks. I return home and tend to the flowers with dead heading; I tend to all the plants that need water and tend to the fish that need food.
On my studio days, I arrive and tend to the space and props in preparation for classes. There are indoor and outdoor plants that require attention. So many moments of tending and yet with presence it becomes a moving meditation.
How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing. A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. It is a scaffolding on which a worker can stand and labor with both hands at sections of time. A schedule is a mock-up of reason and order—willed, faked, and so brought into being; it is a peace and a haven set into the wreck of time; it is a lifeboat on which you find yourself, decades later, still living. – Annie Dillard
Once my work day starts, paying attention to others yields a more fascinating perspective. In noticing my own collection of moments, I am more attuned to how others are tending in the world.
It’s an honor and privilege to hear, share and see this in action. The collective sharing before, during and after a yoga class is the greatest way to learn about how and what others do in their moments; their tending. What becomes crystal clear, is that we are ALL tending… to our children, other people’s children, grandchildren, and adult children; to our parents, our in-laws, and our friends. We spend the moments of our days caring for our animals, our plants, our homes and our gardens. We work and play and volunteer. We clean, organize, shop, exercise, create, and heal. We dawdle (or maybe that’s just me).
Try your own experiment of compassionate observation. Notice how you spend each moment of the day. Invite presence over productivity. I’m willing to bet your daily choices and actions add up to beautiful things. Allow reflection, wonder, intentionality, and ease to permeate this experiment. If August is the Sunday of summer, it’s the perfect time for this!
Here is a brief list of how others tend during the few days of my observation…
Laurie tends to the staff of the day, ensuring there is adequate coverage and everyone knows what their assignments are
Denise tends an aging dog, getting up multiple times in the night
Hattie tends to a friend at the end of life and to a stranger who needs housing
Karen tends to multiple garden beds and the many other gardeners whose plants need attention
Doreen tends to 3 small children most days of the week
Cathy tends to grandchildren preparing to move, extended family, and AARP
Donna tends to grandchildren, dogs, and to her daughter who needs consoling
June tends her mother-in-law, her
Kathy tends her dogs, gardens, pottery, and her shoulder injury
Diane tends to her barn, her post-op knee and to the grief as it arises
Katrina tends to her ailing family members that live hours away
Amber tends to her work, her training, and the many demands of starting a business
Betsy tends to the care of her brother and her own health issues
Patty tends to grandchildren in New York and her grand-dog
Jessica tends to dogs, plants, yoga and a full-time job
Sue tends to her husband’s rehabilitation and multiple appointments
Debbie tends to her mother-in-law’s needs