Folding Towels and Pivoting
*At the time I write this, we have been self-isolating for 10 weeks and under quarantine and curfew for 9 weeks. This week the President of the Dominican Republic has extended quarantine and curfew for 25 more days.
Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed with a pile of towels, I fold each towel with precision and intention. The way in which I fold a specific towel (bath towel, hand towel, kitchen towel, or cleaning towel) has changed depending on which home we lived in and the place we are storing the towel. I have folded our towels in a variety of ways, but I consistently want the fold of a towel to be facing out. It looks clean. Uniform. I might manipulate the fold in order to make sure the towel fits on the shelf correctly, but the gentle roll of the towels remains the same.
The rhythm of folding the towels is calming. I can fold without having to think about it because the decision on how I will fold is already made. I think this routine without the mental load of making a decision each time is why I enjoy the act. Folding towels remains the same regardless of what's happening in my life. If I am sad, exhausted, celebrating, short on time, ill, or overwhelmed by the busyness of life, the towels are folded the exact same way.
Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed with empty calendars, no schedule to keep, limited responsibilities, and seemingly endless hours before me, I long for the same rhythm that folding towels brings. Our days are structured and daily rhythms are put into place based on what is happening in our life. If there are appointments to be made, school to prepare for, work to be completed, obligations to attend to and errands to run, I create my schedule to incorporate them. The daily rhythms of eating, exercise, stillness, morning and evening routines become reality because of the things we need to do - to accomplish. So what happens when those things seemingly disappear? The daily decisions decrease in some ways because the possibilities are limited, but the mental load also increases because there is time to fill and life to live. Like the roll of the folded towel brings calm and predictability, the daily rhythms do the same.
These rhythms have shifted and become something different. They are no longer sitting neatly on a shelf for me to reach for, but rather they are scattered around waiting for me to bring order to our days. Initially with great motivation and excitement over the new free time to plan, learn, and dream, I embraced the life of slowness. But the reality is the bits and pieces of my life became a puzzle thrown on the table. I had to make a decision every single day to put the pieces where they needed to go in order to complete the picture. No one was demanding it, expecting it, or requiring it of me. So when the newness wears off and I become disenchanted, the pieces remain in a big, disorganized pile on the table. Mental load is on overdrive because there are so many decisions to be made and yet most of these decisions are ones I have not made before. I feel unprepared.
In time, the mental load weighs heavily and the lack of rhythm begins to affect me. I am more tired. Unmotivated. Hungry. Not hungry. Slow moving. My body and mind are searching for the rhythms of predictability and calm like folding the towels. Where are the uniform, rolled edges put out on display for others to see? Where are the actions and achievements completed with ease because the decisions have already been made?
I keep folding the towels because the way in which they are folded matters to me. I must wake up each morning living in new rhythms because my days and the days of my family matter. Just like I change the way I fold the towels based on our home, I must pivot now. The new normal that changes on a weekly basis requires me to not hold onto the days too tightly, but to also not just give up and surrender them completely. I must pivot to the next right rhythm. Pivot to the next right way to schedule my day. Pivot towards stillness and occasional unproductivity without the guilt. Pivot towards the opportunities of time and togetherness. Pivot with surrender, but pivot with intentionality. Pivot with possibilities and pivot with purpose.
At the end of the day, the art of folding our towels brings me comfort and peace, but living life will not always be so simple and straightforward. When life changes, I will pivot and push towards the new normal and be thankful that some things, like folding towels, remain the same. The pivot is a choice, and my body and mind need to make this choice. Change always starts with me and so I pivot, and still the towels sit neatly on the self with the gentle rolls facing out.