“We make a little order where we are, and the big sweep of history
on which we can have no effect doesn’t overwhelm us.
We do it with a garden, with the furnishings of a room, or with sounds and words.
We make a little form, and we gain composure.”
I make my bed.
I dust my piano. I wash the car’s windshield. I clean off my desk. I file papers. I plant radishes in rows. I stack firewood. I prune trees. I hang new curtains in my kitchen. I pull everything from my closet and take clothes to Goodwill. I brew a pot of coffee. I sort the silverware in the drawer.
I sew on a button. I clip the hedge. I wash the dog. I shine my Sunday shoes. I bake loaves of bread. I cut flowers and arrange them in a vase. I mow the grass. I pull out weeds. I set the table for dinner. I burn the trash. I paint a pink rose. I fold a load of warm towels from the dryer.
I pick up children’s toys. I cook a roast for dinner. I water potted plants. I rock the baby to sleep and put her down for a nap. I wipe fingerprints from a door facings. I rearrange books on a shelf. I sweep my kitchen floor.
I plant a peony. I mail a letter. I stir the soup.I work a crossword puzzle. I comb my hair. I clean the tabletop. I fill the bird feeders.
In all these little ways––all these small pieces of work, I effect order and change for the better on my slice of the earth. I find relief from the load of chaos and disarray I find the world in. I give ease to my soul from the overwhelming stuff of life.
I make the world settle down. I make the world come home.