"Working" to Fit In?

So I haven't had any meditative epiphanies while sitting in a temple. Meditation is still when my brain decides to wonder what's for breakfast and freak out about being almost 20.

Let's not think about that.

My first kind of "aha" moment was actually while I was lemon-oiling the sunroom stairs in preparation for the Guru's arrival. I was amazed by how little time it had taken me to feel like a true Shoshoni-ite, someone who wasn't just observing, rather, someone who was participating.

I mean, I might not have the whole crow pose down as well as the staff, nor can I sit still for more than five minutes, but hey, minor details.

Part of the familiarity stems from being here last year, though I remember feeling like a part of the community shortly after my arrival last time.

So what is it that makes us feel connected?

Work.

Don't give me that look.

Okay, so it's just a theory, but for me, as soon as I start contributing to something, I feel much more at home there. I'm not talking a job sort of work, I mean that one may start to feel like the belong more once they help the community they're staying in.

Think about it--when is that moment you know you're no longer a guest? It's when your best friend's parents ask you to help with the dishes, or clear your own damn plate. It's kind of a nice feeling, to step past the "oh here, let me"s and to just be part of how a regular family would react to one another.

I'm not the type to volunteer myself for a million cleaning tasks, so being the official lodge-cleaner at Shoshoni has helped me get past that resistance. It's actually fun to make the tables look shiny and clean, and to know I'm making a (slight) difference in this community.

This is something that I can take home more easily than meditation and letting go of the ego. I admit, I've never done a ton of chores back home. I blame it on being the youngest child. Or having toenails.

I'm sorry, Dad, I can't sweep the floors, my toenails are too long.

But because I resisted the daily household chores, I felt this constant distance between myself and my home. When I lived at my mom's, I begrudgingly did the dishes, but I could chill in my living room and call it my own (without paying for it, but again, minor details).

So to all my fellow work-resisters out there, sweep some floors. Clean some tables. You'll feel much more at ease if you do.

Namaste.