Zen and the Art of Folding Towels

Perhaps it is that remarkable, but I laundered my bath towels today.  Washed them in my regular Kirkland laundry soap.  White towels got Oxy-clean additive.  Then all were dried with a Bounce fabric softener sheet.  When done, I piled them all into my old wicker laundry basket and carried them inside.  I took them to the dining room table, my most convenient large flat surface to fold.

Satisfaction can be found in
an artfully folded towel

Taking the bath towels, I spread them all out flat, lengthwise on the table.  I smoothed them out and then began my folding routine.  Grasping the corners nearest me, I folded halfway to center.  Then I took the two corners farthest from me, and folded the towel back toward me.  I picked up each end and brought the ends to center.  And then I folded one half over the other.  Neat, clean, no edges showing.  Somehow deeply satisfying.

I used to just fold my towels any which way.  It didn't matter because they would be put in a drawer or stacked on the vanity.  Who cared?  Really, I know I didn't. Then someone showed me this folding technique.  It was a discipline, an art, a simple source of accomplishment.  I take pride in how I fold me towels.  Really.

Today, though, as I stood at the table, folding the towels fresh from the dryer, smelling of scented softener sheets, I began to watch myself.  My hands moved effortlessly, as though they knew what to do all on their own.  Flipping up one side, smoothing it out.  Flipping up the other side over the other, smoothing it out.  Folding to the middle and then stacking them on the end of the table before taking the entire stack to the linen closet; stacking a few on the vanity for immediate use.

The art of it struck me.  It was quiet in the house.  The dogs were asleep.  The TV and radio shut off.  I thought about how these simple acts were opportunities to ponder.  I could empty my mind while getting lost in the zen of towel-folding.  The past melted away, the future of no immediate concern.  It was just me, the towels and an existential revelry.

Try it.  Think of nothing else while you are mopping the floor or pulling weeds in the garden.  You may be surprised to find a new understanding of meditation, of a quieted mind.  And you may be inspired to while washing dishes, mowing the lawn or eating breakfast.  In this mindful state, life slows and becomes manageable.  Really. Now do it, go fold some towels.  You'll never think about it the same way again.

Who knows where your imagination will take you?