My mind needed mindlessness this morning. I was seated in just the right place, with just the right angle to view the combination of sunlight and dancing dust particles. Believe me, there were lots of dancing dust particles. Actually, it is rather unsettling to think of how many "dusties", I'll call them, we inhale during the course of a twenty-four hour period. I should be aware of how many dusties are aboot in my house because the evidence of their presence is everywhere. I can dust all the surfaces in the condo one day and when the next day arrives, run my finger over the black, satin finish on the piano and see the line produced by my finger "slide".
Ever notice how ironic it is that when we refer to removing dust from our furniture and other surfaces we refer to the process as "dusting"? When I think of dusting, I think of crop dusting - where an airplane buzzes a farmer's field about twenty feet off the ground and sprays the crop surfaces with some type of either fertilizer or insect preventative (insect preventative sounds so much better than insecticide) or when my mother used to dust her body with talcum powder after a bath or when CBS's CSI techs "dust" for fingerprints. "Did you dust yet?", should be the inquiry to ask if a person applied dust, not removed it.
Then there is the very old saying, "let the dust settle". I think we all know what that means. By "letting the dust settle", we are allowing a situation to calm down, an investigation to move along at its own pace, or a crisis to abate. Sometimes I need to let my own internal dust settle, much like it accidentally did this morning by simply sitting long enough in one place to watch the dust particles flit about in sunlight on invisible wisps of air. My thoughts were allowed to flit and then settle on the surfaces of my brain in a much more organized and peaceful manner.
Who knew household dust could be so therapeutic?
Ancora imparo
