Mindful March: Leave it better.

Imagine a world where everything was left better than it was found.

I hadn't really distilled the idea of taking care of things down to such simplicity, until I read a caption which said, "I believe in always leaving a rental better than it was." I'm still not sure why it generated so much thought from me, only that it made me pause for some self reflection.

I've always prided myself on being a good tenant, so the caption above didn't have me reflect on my past actions so much as it did my previous motives. Did I believe that every rental should be left better for the next person? Or did I just want to ensure I got my bond back?

I do recall thinking that one day I would have my own home, and that was when I would take to skirting boards with a toothbrush, and affixing torches to broom sticks to clear high ceilings of cobwebs. (Still hasn't happened.) But would I press the seams of my dedication to that extent with a home that I always knew was temporary, and never truly mine? I'm gonna say, no.

Why would I care about improving upon it, when I just needed to break even in the long run?

Well. There was one instance where we got a rental, and it was in such a horrendous state, (but in a glorious location), that before we moved in, we took to it with sanders and pots of paint, (at our own expense), and we painted the whole bedroom, and the front living room.

We steam cleaned the entire flat. We chiseled flaking paint from windowsills. We got to every skirting board.

I was also pregnant at the time, and fighting 24-hour nausea.

It was totally worth it.

It was worth the time, the energy, and the expense. For us, and the person who came next. (Who happened to be a dear friend of ours, so naturally I was even more pleased we had given it such care.) But I wouldn't have gone to all that trouble of my own accord. My partner was the driver behind that.

Have your cake, and eat it too.

My partner's mother had been raised to always leave the bigger piece of cake for the next person; and though that doesn't sound like much fun, don't forget, at some point in time you will be the next person. And if someone has left a bigger piece for you, you also benefit in this exchange of consideration.

(And yes, you should, in turn, leave the bigger of what is left for the next.)

So I've been churning this over in my mind, and observing how it lands in different areas of my life.

When I head to the kitchen at work to make a coffee, I think, "Imagine if every single person here left the kitchen in a better state than it was in when they arrived."

There would always be enough cups and spoons. There would never be a sink packed with filthy dishes, because nobody had turned the dishwashers on.

(And, subsequently, the dishwashers would also never be left packed with clean dishes, because someone would've emptied them, and put everything back in their place.)

In all areas of our lives, it would be an improved experience. People would pick up litter, and put it in the bin. Surfaces would be wiped down and bathrooms would be clean. Towels would be hung tidily, paper towels refilled, and so the list goes on. And it wouldn't take much. Because it would fold unto itself. If simply mopping a spill meant it was an improvement, all you'd have to do is mop up a spill.

Sometimes, admittedly, I take the easier path. I declare my time too limited to go beyond what I decided I was going to do. Like not leaving the dishes to drip dry all night long, so that those which were stacked on one side of the sink, dirty, are now merely stacked on the other side, but clean.

It's not about simply breaking even, and leaving the space as good as it was found - which is certainly better than leaving it worse - but about how much of an improvement to our lives it would be if we just left it that little bit better.

But it's not just about things. Or spaces.

What about people?

Leave an encounter with someone better than you found them.

Imagine if everyone left another person feeling better than they'd felt before their encounter? For example, if you have a brief chat with someone in the kitchen at work, whether or not you are privy to how they'd already been feeling, imagine you'd been able to bring them a moment that they enjoyed just enough, that they could momentarily let go of the weight they were carrying?

Even just leaving someone with a smile, when they hadn't been smiling before your arrival, is, in my books, leaving someone better than you'd found them.

It's not about changing the course of someone else's day, or asserting control over someone's outlook, but about the basic building blocks mindful encounters. About treating each one with respect and care. It means we remember to pay attention, and listen. We take in our surroundings, and the people in it, and we become aware of how they are experiencing the moment. We also become self aware, so that we may treat others with kindness, check to see how they really are, and remember to return the milk to the fridge.

I used to come to the coffee machine at work, and if it didn't work because it had run out of water, or the grounds container was full, I would leave and find a coffee machine that worked, elsewhere.

It then occurred to me that I was part of the problem. So the next time that happened, I went to ask someone to teach me how to fix these things myself. Simple.

Whoever comes after me, gets a coffee.

Can you see the cloud in your coffee?

One of my favourite quotes from Plum Village is, "Can you see the cloud in your coffee?"

I love the idea of looking at something so deeply, that we see how we are connected to everything in the cosmos. That our cup of coffee goes far beyond the delivery of beans in the canister, that is then pushed through a machine to instantly fill our cup. The expression takes us right back to the vapours in the sky, watering the earth, growing the beans, and providing hot water at our finger tips. It takes us to the growers of coffee, and those harvesting the beans. And so, if we look deeply, and we see the clouds in our mug, we may even heighten our experience of drinking coffee so that it is better at the last sip than it was at the first.

We can leave our experiences better than when we found them, also.

It isn't easy, but as my partner often tells me; do the right thing, not just the easy thing.