Wax on, wax off

It doesn't get any more spiritual than this

(PORTUGUÊS) (NEDERLANDS)

I'm glad I'm sitting down. I spent the entire afternoon cleaning the house and guest apartment at a rapid pace – and I don't mean «in a slapdash manner». We're having friends stay over tomorrow, and I didn't have time for the house last week. There were more important things to do. So everything had to be done today. Since I had appointments in the morning, it had to be done in the afternoon.

'The nice thing about household chores is that they always wait for you. They never run away,' my half Indonesian mother often said. Her house was spotless, even though she didn't have a well-thought-out schedule. She just did it. Without becoming a slave to her house.

When I got married at the age of 21, I had no idea about household chores. Nor about cooking. My mother-in-law was a pure Dutch woman. I watched her closely to learn the art of cooking potatoes and keeping a clean house. Do you know why? Because it annoyed me enormously when someone made a mess in my house and didn't clean up after themselves.

Later, I became friends with a woman from Limburg (the south of Holland). We lived around the corner from each other. Sometimes her Limburgish mother came to clean. She was like a white tornado and would say threateningly that people live on and under the cupboard too. My friend and I regularly helped each other with the spring cleaning. When I write it down like this, it sounds strange. In Holland, that's not necessary. No more stoves that make a mess all winter long. It was more her upbringing. Not mine.

My quirk is that I want to be able to do everything well. Down to the last detail, and that's where those Dutch cleaning schools come in handy. For a short while, the house (and children) dominated my life, until I went back to work full-time. And all that time, I continued to do the housework on the side. Sometimes with hired help. But hey, I can do it better myself. And not only that.

I always experience two very miraculous things.

Cleaning my own house is a form of meditation. Of course, I can also meditate on my yoga mat, but I don't consider that an art. Being aware of your body and what that body is doing – completely in the moment – without thinking about anything else, that is art. How often do you find yourself wandering off to your work, your family, friends, elections, tonight, tomorrow, and so on?

I learned to apply qi gong and yoga in daily life from a film, among other things. The Karate Kid, which I once went to see with my boys. In it, the kid is instructed by the master to wash a large car. The boy was completely offended, because he had come to learn how to fight, he had come for the real thing. The master ignored his sulky face and demonstrated the polishing once. With his right hand, he made a circular motion and then with his left hand in the opposite direction. He said very calmly: Wax on, wax off. Since then (which is years ago), I have been cleaning my house with that mantra: wax on, wax off.

Purified, I look at the end result. The whole house shines. But there is more to it than that.

Everything I have touched has received my soul. The house is alive. The house is me. I am the house. Really... it doesn't get any more spiritual than that.