It’s All About the Crumbs

I used to think my mindfulness practice was measured by my patience in traffic, my skill in letting go of results or my ability to reduce judgment when interacting with stupid people.

However, I have lately realized that my barometer for mindfulness is all about the crumbs….my husband’s crumbs, in fact.

Every morning my husband gets up early and makes himself the same breakfast: cereal with almond milk, large glass of OJ, toast. Then he takes these items into the den, sits down in front of the desktop computer, and proceeds to scan the local newspaper while eating. Dishes in the dishwasher, a kiss goodbye and he’s off to work.

And I am left with crumbs. Crumbs on the swivel chair, crumbs on and in the keyboard, crumbs, endless crumbs. Every. Single. Day.

This habit has the potential to make me blow a gasket. “What is wrong with him?? Doesn’t he see the mess he leaves behind?? And now I must clean it up! I would NEVER be this thoughtless!”

For days I stewed over his disgusting habit with no end in sight. I pondered the consequences of confronting him or just letting it go. I meditated with crumbs on my mind and interesting thoughts began to show up. “This whole crumb thing is kind of funny. I mean, it’s just crumbs.” “I could look at them as evidence of my husband’s presence. There is LIFE in this place and here’s the proof!” “I can accept the crumbs; could be worse!” And, finally, “Oh by the way, remember the man has glaucoma. He probably can’t even SEE the crumbs!”

And so, the once-dreaded crumbs have morphed into a daily reminder of the presence of a person I love and appreciate. I no longer feel angry as I vacuum the crumbs from the keyboard. As a matter of fact, I consider it an amusing morning ritual and a unique way to measure my inner peace.

It’s all about the crumbs.

-Kathy B.