“Chop that wood
Carry water
What’s the sound of one hand clapping?
Enlightenment, don’t know what it is…
Enlightenment, don’t know what it is
It’s up to you, the way you think….” Van Morrison, Enlightenment, 1990
In 1984, I was a young ICU nurse recovering adult and child open heart surgeries by day and dreaming of enlightenment by night. My new husband and I were devotees of Paramahansa Yogananda, founder of the Self-Realization Fellowship and temple in Encinitas, California; we had the aura of many emerging from the 70s, a pressing but uneasy God urge. That year, when the New Age Press published an amazing book called “Chop Wood Carry Water: a Guide to Spiritual Transformation ( Rick Fields), we practically vibrated with joy at its simple but powerful message about personal transformation. The message: it’s the little stuff, people.
In fact, it’s the mundanity of the sink full of dishes, the commute, the cat litter box, and the slow line at the market which strains our romantic notions of living in spiritual bliss. But Chop Water philosophy is a marvelous and practical roadmap for Stoicism, as well as its original Zen origins. Now doing these repetitive, boring, mindless tasks is a gift. Given the right attitude, we apply gratitude, virtue, eudaimonia, oikeosis, and attention to the simple, endless tasks of living, as much as to the ‘big’ things. What happens? No lost time, every moment becomes the transformation, resentment fades away, character strengthens, families, are nurtured, and we face our fates with grace. We love our life again, all of it, even a day full of bills. So, bring on the laundry. I can find the divine in it, the divine in me doing the work in front of me with a laugh and a little bit more of Stoic joy.