I’m slowly building a high-maintenance environment. Three cats, multiple fruit trees, a supremely needy potted gardenia, family members, various houseplants: I’m busy with caring for things. What I’m discovering involves the joy of care-taking routines. I wish I would have relished more those routines of baby and toddler care, but I didn’t. I kept waiting for the stage I was in to end so I could quickly get to the next thing.
Now, perhaps misting the gardenia, carefully removing any dead leaves and then checking the water level of the rock pond beneath the pot, puts me fully in the present moment. You stand there, smelling that gardenia fragrance and exploring the shiny leaves, and there’s nothing else but you and the task. Turning to the cats, I’ve learned to love brushing them, feeding them, and playing with them with a laser pointer. In that moment, I’m not worried about grading papers or agonizing about some past conversation. I’m just brushing a cat.
Ordering part of the day around caretaking brings a particular kind of peace and joy rooted in simplicity. I recommend adding it into the day. You can ask, “What might I add to my environment to care for, whether a plant or animal?” or “Which person in my life might I care for more?” Caretaking might involve cooking for someone, cleaning for someone, or listening well to them. It’s a role I’m growing into.