From chaos to order

People put off clutter because it's annoying to realize it exists.

Admitting there is chaos means you have to get up, move, and interact with the disorder until it disappears.

It's more annoying to do all that when you don't want to do it. You put things in order without wanting to put them in order. You clean without wanting to clean. You work without wanting to work.

Acting like this is like existing without wanting to exist. It is the perfect formula for living in perpetual suffering.

But whoever does not avoid it, nor puts a single barrier between oneself and disorder, becomes unified and interacts directly and personally with it. One immediately begins a dialogue with it, listens to it, understands it, and feels its discomfort and illness. One begins to heal it with genuine compassion. One arranges every object in its place, cleans every corner, and balances every imbalance.

When finished, what remains is a room that breathes without obstructions. The dwelling returns to its primordial state.

There is no resistance, doubt, or hesitation in such a process. There is only action. Those who unite with their environment cannot even think about it. It just happens. A musician starts playing when he sees his musical instrument. A basketball player starts playing when he sees a ball and a basket. An artist begins to draw when he sees a blank sheet of paper next to his pencil.

And how is this unification achieved? By understanding that one is not independent from its place.

And how is that understood? By verifying that one does not possess inherent existence.

As the Lamas say, one is a wave of the ocean. Yoga was never about the drop of water returning to the sea but about knowing we were always a wave in the sea.

In this sense, right action is like a tide, like underwater currents. It is a natural event that occurs simply because the conditions are present: If there is disorder, one is the current that moves things into place.

In such a process, no one decides to put things in order, no one thinks about it, and no one resists. There is only a transition from chaos to harmony, and we can’t discern when it begins and ends.

For this dance without dancers to begin, it is necessary to be willing to be here. That is probably the most difficult challenge of all. To be willing to be here and disappear into the work that needs to be done. It is not a mere willingness to get one's hands dirty. It is becoming the earth and harvesting itself until it bears fruit.

You have to be there for what you have to do. The problem is that we rarely are there for what needs to be done, which makes everything unbearable.

But if you are here without forcing yourself to be here, you will become this substantial dynamic event. You will become the meaning of this moment.

If there is disorder, you are the transition to order.

If there is raw material, you are the creation of the work.

If there are musical instruments, you are the interpretation of the musical piece.

You are the fingers that type each letter of your next essay, novel, or poem. You are every flexion and extension of your limbs focused on sculpting your body.

And, of course, you are the final product, even when your work ends up in someone else's hands.

Because, in the end, that's what it's all about: to be this action that transforms everything it touches into gold, to instantly give itself to whoever needs it, including yourself.