Laundry Folding Zen

LAUNDRY

Bringing in and folding the laundry has become a meditation of sorts. Driers in the home are a rarity in this land. They, like dishwashers, are things not often found in the Japanese home. And so it just kind of happened. All the clothes go into the washer at the end of the day. The washer runs after the last person gets out of the bath. Bring it upstairs and sometimes I’ll help with the hanging (but usually that’s Shiz’s job since she often fixes my improper hanging anyhow). 

Weather permitting she’ll put it all out on laundry poles the next morning before heading out the door. My morning schedule of business English then kindergarten classes allows a home lunch break most days, so I’m in the door around noon to eat and then it’s laundry time. There are times I rush through it still, but those are becoming less and less as the years pass. Now more often than not I try to make it like a meditation. Goofy as that may sound I’ve gotta tellya, there’s great joy to be found in brining in and folding the laundry.

The trick is to do it mindfully, to not just rush through it. Move everything from the laundry poles out on the balcony to the pole I put up in the bedroom, or lay it on the bed, then take each piece of clothing one by one… Breathing in I take this little shirt off the hanger, breathing out I fold it. Gratitude always ensues: gratitude and a smile. 

The smile comes automatically. Shorts for the oldest boy are bigger now than those he used to wear. Bigger, but still they’re boy clothes. He’s growing up. Minion briefs are the younger boys, I imagine him bouncing on the bed in them last night, the smile gives way to a laugh. Slightly bigger boxers go to the older boys’ pile. Inside-out shirts and socks get folded as they are. If I fix it for them they’ll never learn to do it themselves. Then there’s the cutest little shirts and tiny little socks, pink and flowers abound, I can hear her sweet little voice “Daddy kawaiii?” (Is it cute?) And the Mr. Happy t-shirt! Oh how I love the little red Mr. Happy shirt, now a hand me down soon to be too small for the littlest of the bunch. Make no mistake, it is impossible to harbor ill emotion of any sort while folding a Mr Happy t-shirt! 

My and Shiz’s clothes are mixed in there too of course. That U2 t-shirt she surprised me with on my birthday. God I love that shirt! Not knowing whether to fold or hang the lacy top of hers. Just put it in the closet she’ll know. Or that teeny tiny little pair of Victoria’s Secret… Gulp! 

Different feelings arise when folding her clothes for sure.

But it all leads to gratitude. And if not grateful for what I’ve got, then how can I ask for more? That one’s so true. So by focusing on the task at hand—by keeping my mind on the laundry while doing the laundry—I can’t help but be grateful. My god we’ve got clothes to wear! 

The same goes for washing dishes by hand. We just ate. I received payment for work, my wife used it to buy food then turned it into something wonderful, we all sat and ate together. Taking each dish or utensil one by one I can breath in and focus on how freak’n awesome that is, which inevitably gives rise to compassion. 

How many went hungry tonight? Does it matter if they’re not of my race or religion or immigration status or… well any of it? Does it matter if it’s a hungry child? 

Gratitude and compassion. 

Awareness of Life in the Here and Now. 

Knowing this too shall all pass away. It’ll all be gone before I know it, thus all the more reason to try to be awake to the ordinary just as much, if not even more than, the exciting, in the Here and Now.