Revolution

It is a lazy Sunday afternoon. It is the kind of contented afternoon that feels rich with meaning early in the day, so that the rest of the day is gravy…borrowed time…just extra hours intended for enjoyment. Earlier today, I traded a dish shift with one of the members of the yoga community in which I live so she could have her Sunday morning off. Normally, I don't work with the crew of people working today, and there is always a different feel, a different dynamic depending on who is working and the schedule of the particular day.

The shift was smooth, and I sailed, smiling, through my sink of stainless pots and pans. My mood was encouraged by the selection of traditional gospel bluegrass and the singular sense of home I could hear in the crisp, modest voice of the songstress. One of the crew, Vishwanath, had put the music on for us this Sunday morning. Vishwanath is an older man; I don’t know how old, but he has a full gray beard and long gray hair. He has taken a vow of silence, so he communicates via a pocket-sized blackboard and while he has a boisterous laugh and pleasant demeanor, I consider him a serious man. We chat for a bit (I speak, he writes) about music and bluegrass and then I return to the dish room for the final task of mopping.

So, I am in the process of mopping, and notice myself thinking, “Uh oh, what if I’m not doing this right?” (By the way, the amount of thoughts you can have on just ONE shift, WHOA! Not a good place to try to escape from yourself!) And then I think, “I should slow this down so that Vish will see that I am a good worker (and approve of me).” But I catch myself--trying to impress someone I respect. I realize this with some humor, and tell myself that I just need to slow it down and benefit from the practice myself. I am not trying to rack up brownie points, I came here to deepen my spiritual practice. These dishes, this soapy puddle are my Karma Yoga--selfless service with no attachment to the result of one's actions. And here I am cheating (myself) by trying to get the instant gratification of Approval! And what a booby prize approval is...will I just sit around hoping someone will recognize my goodness and offer me salvation...? At this point, Vish taps me on the shoulder, showing me his chalkboard which says, “Revolution has to come from inside.” Now I’m speechless, so I just nod.

I turn back to my mop, but with tears in my eyes. (My tears…always popping out whenever Truth stings me unexpectedly!) I think for a second how special this place is, but really, I wonder if amazing things are always happening around me and I only need to change my routine and slow down to recognize them.