On the Vindication of Puttering

Yesterday I finally gave my spaceship a good deep clean, and decorated a meditation/work station platform. This morning when I came out to drop my computer & smoothie (before heading up the hill to do qi gong) I found myself puttering for a few minutes. I was aware that I didn’t want to become distracted from my morning practice, but it felt nice to put a few touches on the work of yesterday.

Puttering sounds at first like a nothing sort of thing - something next to idleness… or distracted movement, something vague, a bit purposeless, filling time, not truly productive. At least these are my associations with it. But when I’m honest with myself, puttering is one of the most enjoyable actions in my days.

I had found a few thumbtacks in the utility drawer in the house, so I hung up the calendar I love on one of the tall cabinets. I hung a thin white scarf as a curtain over the refrigerator alcove turned boot tray-broom closet. I spread a batik sheet over the new meditation / writing platform. I rearranged a few of my icons so they felt precisely perfect and set out my smoothie & computer for when my meditation would be done. All of this flowed together, one thing into the next, as if I were painting a little wave of feng shui through the space.

I realized walking up to the hill how pleasurable those few minutes of time had been. I recalled other typical puttering times, like in the morning when the water for lemon tea is coming to a boil; I often move slowly about setting things right for the day - tidy the table, put some dishes away from the dish rack, chat with the cat for a moment. I realized suddenly that these little tendings, cumulatively, are an essential element of maintaining a pleasing and energy-flowing space. But how often do we think of puttering as a worthwhile activity? Or even notice that we are doing it, or better yet - slow down and enjoy it?

It occurred to me as I reached my qi gong spot on the hill, and stood staring into the sun with closed eyes for a moment, that puttering and cleaning might be lumped together sometimes, but are quite different. Cleaning is a big task, like yesterday I lugged a small shop-vac out to the ship. Then made a second trip hauling a bucket of hot soapy water and a bag of rags and a citrus spray. I got my head geared up for the job, rolled up my sleeves and pant legs, put on DCX and my best farm wife handkerchief and dove in. Three and a half hours later I was filthy, dehydrated, shaky and very pleased.

But I love how puttering is more of an adventure than a task. It can start at any moment, with one tiny action. I see the dish soap is still in the bathtub where I filled the cleaning bucket, so I walk it back towards the kitchen. On the way I recall that post-cleaning-frenzy I left wet rags hanging on the truck, so I retrieve them, put the soap at the sink and head out the back porch to hang the rags on the line. On the way I see the dogs’ outdoor water dish is low, so I refill it which prompts a happy response from Pearl, so I pet her for a moment while she slurps and wags her tail. Back inside I realize it’s almost time to start cooking dinner so I wipe down the counters and turn the radio on to NPR, pour myself a big glass of water, add a lemon balm leaf and decide to sit for a moment and listen to the show, vowing to start cooking in 5 minutes…

The magic formula, ‘this, so that’ can go on and on until the moment you decide to stop. Since each action is small there is no protracted denouement, just a gentle sense of accomplishment that things are a little more right than they were a few moments ago.

This lends itself to a whole territory of action where my beloved to-do lists don’t apply because, besides the fact that it took longer to write then to do all that, I wouldn’t have even thought of it all ahead of time anyway. Each step indicated the next. It’s more like a tuning in to one’s immediate environment and following a breadcrumb trail through the space of little things that need attending to.

Now that’s puttering.

Upon my epiphany that I love puttering, I quickly moved on to consider scheduling puttering into my day. But something inside me recoiled at the thought. One of the best things about puttering is how it can slip in between the bigger, planned activities of life.

I will also need to guard against my tendency to get over-excited and ruin a good idea. I don’t want to putter for 3 hours, turning it into some kind of OCD episode, which runs in my family… Puttering, I believe, is meant to be a temporary thing, in little bursts.

A bluebird singing called my attention back to myself standing on the hill. So, as I began my qi gong on the hill, I concluded that I wouldn’t schedule puttering or turn it into another thing on my daily list. But I vowed to notice this little action that heretofore had gained no credibility or attention in my days.

From now on when I realize, ‘Oh I’m puttering’, or ‘Hey now would be a perfect moment to putter for a little while’ I’m going to open my heart and body to the experience, thinking “Yes, you putter girl. Enjoy it! Feel the big impact of these tiny actions! Ah ha there’s the next little thing calling for attention…” And henceforth this worthy activity will hold a more noble title – spontaneous daily feng shui meditation.  ;)

So putter on people,

~sab