This is my mandala

Some days feel like madness, but they’re not.

The same clothes, washed and hung, to be folded and dirtied again. The dishes that were scrubbed earlier covered in food, soaking in the sink again. The floor, just vacuumed, collecting dust and dirt from hurried footsteps, begging to be cleaned again. The children that were just so freshly washed, now dirty and giggling as their faces are wiped again.

It looks like a hamster wheel, my day, the endless repetition of chores. But it’s not.

It’s my mandala.

Buddhists believe that change is the only constant in life. That you can only be truly present in this moment by understanding its fleetingness. They call it impermanence.

They symbolize it by creating mandalas – intricate patterns of coloured sand that consume their time and focus. Then they take that finished product, that breathtaking creation, and they destroy it.  

Much like my children do to my clean house.

Sometimes we need to find meaning in our actions, we need to remind ourselves why the mundane can be grand. We need to be here, be present, whatever our task is for today.

We need to make this moment our meditation.

The beauty of my mandala is my children’s smiles. The intricacies of it are the nuances of my family that only I can tend to. The symbolism of it is love – crazy, messy, beautiful love. And the fact that I will wake tomorrow and do it all again is my impermanence.

Your mandala might be different to mine. It might be your work that never seems to get finished, or your goals that are constantly pursued. But by being present in its creation you make it your meditation – and it is beautiful indeed.

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