Shoulds

When I turned 50 I swore I was done with shoulds. You know what I mean, those things we say we’ll do but when it really comes right down to it, we’re mainly doing it because we fear people will think we’re less than good if we don’t.

So when I was asked to help sort through a textile collection my rushed mind said “well, you should do it. You should do some volunteering, you should help out.” So I said yes. Earlier this week I had my first day “on duty” with the textiles. In the midst of an incredible snowstorm I drove onto campus, slogged through the snow, ran back and forth collecting change for a parking meter, and I’ll be honest, I was thinking “forget it. This is the first and last time I’m doing THIS.”

Finally, I was able to take off my jacket, shake out my snowy hair and focus on the task at hand. The job is opening, checking, measuring and recataloging an amazingly extensive textile collection housed right here at the University. We’re working in an immense, climate controlled lab environment, pristine and well organized. Handing us our white cotton gloves, our guide explained the process, gave us our first box, and we got to it.

This first box housed 3 shawls, woven in the mid-1800’s. Richly woven, ornately designed, absolutely huge and breathtaking–we were in awe. We were taught to carefully lift each piece out of the box and as a team, carry the piece to the cotton cloaked table for measuring. Even the unfolding was done as a team and it was like a dance as we watched one another and mirrored our movements in order to cause the least amount of stress on the piece. The entire process from lifting, carrying and walking as a team, the precise measuring and recording, the careful refolding was a meditation in itself.

Two hours later, when I realized it was time to go, I was disappointed that our time was up. The pieces and the process itself were so beautiful and clearly, I’d been mistaken about the “shouldness” of this task. Furthermore, I marveled at how rich I felt having been in the presence of these people, this beauty, this history. It was quite a reminder of the surprises and riches that lie beyond our comfort zone.

And I felt rich for the rest of the day, recalling the beauty of the experience and meeting the remainder of the day with a new set of eyes attuned to something beyond the should.