Many people look for ways to create a sense of harmony in their daily routines, especially when life settles into familiar patterns. This post reflects on how rhythm, community, and small mindful habits shape a balanced life inside an independent living community. Inspired in part by the themes of The Boys in the Boat, it explores how ordinary routines — from weekly gatherings to quiet late‑night hours to the meditative act of cleaning — can reveal deeper insights about connection, purpose, and the roles we play in one another’s lives…. AI
My life has a rhythm that sometimes mimics restless boredom and sometimes feels like I’m happily living in the moment. On Mondays I have dinner at the Farm Table, which I enjoy for its laughter. On Tuesdays it’s dinner with my conversation group, which I enjoy for its intellectual stimulus. Wednesdays are devoted to Mahjong, which combines the best things I like about Mondays and Tuesdays. On Thursdays I try to schedule any appointments or shopping that take me off campus, and on Fridays the highlight of the day is lunch at the large drop‑in table, followed by doing laundry. Saturdays and Sundays are interchangeable…one day I pick up the apartment and write my blog post, the other day is designated as a Fun Day.
During the week our Life Enrichment Director also populates my calendar with lectures or classes—and I go to them all, no matter who the speaker or topic is. (This week a professor from a local college is giving a talk about all the presidents.) Our LED also offers a lot of exercise classes, which I avoid like the plague.
I know what you’re thinking…that a fatty‑fatty‑two‑by‑four like me should be going to all the exercise stuff: cardio drumming, cardio boxing, balance class, strength building and stretching, line dancing, Tai Chi, standing Pilates, seated Pilates. And then there’s the summer walking group. All of these classes take place in the early morning—most before I even get out of bed or am fully awake. I’ve never been a morning person, and I doubt my new sleep doctor could help me change that even if I asked him to.
It would probably help my social life around my independent living building if I did bounce out of bed and into the shower early enough to have coffee and donuts at 9:00 with other residents. Heck, by 9:00 AM two of my Mahjong players are already back from swimming at the YMCA, the Cheerleader, two dog owners and a handful of other residents are back from greeting the sunrise, and the guy down the hall—who gets up every day at 4:00—is ready for his morning nap.
With the hours I keep, the only people left to talk to after 9:00 PM are the security guard and the night‑shift cleaner. I do like the quietness that comes over the place from 9:00 to midnight. I can do anything but go to the trash room. Dropping trash down the chute after 9:00 might wake people up. I found this out after a woman I didn’t like moved out because of “the late‑night trash room noises,” which got blamed on the night‑shift cleaner who empties the recycling. I felt bad for the cleaner, but I was glad to see the woman move. She was the biggest complainer I’d ever been around and she expected the staff here to treat us as if we were living on the set of Downton Abbey. Long-time readers might remember her as Ms Manners. I wrote about her in four posts. She was like oil to my vinegar, and I hated having to work at being nice around her. It was exhausting.
Please note that I didn’t know about her complaining about the trash room noise until after she moved out, or I would have switched my chute drops to the afternoons, like I do now. I don’t go out of my way to irritate others; I’m sure I do enough of that just by being me.
I’ve been listening to a book for my book club—The Boys in the Boat by Daniel James Brown. It’s a non-fiction about the 1936 Berlin Olympics, where a college rowing crew from Seattle won against the crew rowing for Adolf Hitler. “Harmony, balance, and rhythm.” You can’t spend fourteen and a half hours listening to the importance of harmony, balance, and rhythm without thinking about how that applies to your own life. George Pocock, the man who built the Husky Clipper the boys used for their Olympic victory, wrote in his journal, “Without harmony, balance and rhythm civilization is out of whack.” I’m guessing he meant that we all have our places in the Boat of Life, and if one of us screws up, it affects the direction of the boat and all its crew. Those three words are certainly more than just a metaphor when it comes to rowing, though.
Our LED rented the movie and a week after our discussion we all got together to see it. I liked them both but if I had to pick just one it would be the book. We also saw the movie Hammet after reading the book. I didn't like the movie at all and feel anyone who hasn't read the book would be lost in the movie. Most of the scene were dark and there was very little dialogue. They didn't even mention it was about William Shakespeare's family until the last twenty minutes! He was just 'Will' in the movie up until then. But out of the ten of us who saw the movie, I was the only person who thought it fell way short of all the Golden Globes and Oscar buzz it's getting.
Back on topic: My youngest niece sent me a text asking if I’d write something out for her because “You have such pretty penmanship.” I told her my penmanship isn’t that great anymore, but I have some fonts on my computer that look elegant. So I printed out the words: “For me, cleaning and keeping a nice home is part of my creative process. Keeping my hands busy helps my mind find stillness.”
Upon seeing the quote, my first reaction was to text back that she was talking about cleaning used as meditation. She’d never thought of it that way, but she agreed that’s exactly what happens when she Zens out while sweeping her driveway or cleaning her kitchen. It seems her neighbors are always asking if that’s all she does—clean—and that question bothers her. She wants to post a 5” x 7” framed copy of the quote on her refrigerator to remind herself she’s not doing anything wrong by enjoying cleaning. It makes me sad that other people’s probably innocent remarks make my niece question herself and feel defensive.
“Aunt Jean,” she asked, “why does my cleaning bother them so much?” I told her it either makes them feel guilty for not keeping a neater house, or they’re just trying to make idle conversation. "Laugh and tell them, 'Don’t bother me, I’m meditating!'”
And I told her the story about slicing a carrot—how when you’re living in the moment and using work as meditation, you focus your mind on that carrot, and each time you slice you try to make the pieces the same size. You take note of the smell of the carrot and its color. “It’s probably like that when you sweep your driveway. You’re looking for pebbles to sweep away and taking note of the warmth of the cement beneath your feet and the sun on your face.”
“Exactly!” she texted back.
Whether I’m having feelings of restless boredom or living in the blissful moment, I’m happy I have a good rapport with my nieces. It gives me a peek at what it must be like to have daughters. ©
P.S. If you are still on a high from the Walk for Peace, like I am, here's another link that is a collection of some of the fabulous art that has been inspired by the Walk and was given to the monks along the way. They are going to set up a museum room to display all the badges and art. The police badges filled up four of those wraps the lead monk wore. And Aloka got his own set from K-9 units across the country.
