Your eyes slowly open. You crawl out of bed, pour yourself a piping hot cup of coffee, and try to recharge yourself. Every morning is the same. Before your eyes can adjust to the golden morning light, you're engrossed in your emails. The digital world shocks you.
Wake up!
Ironing certainly isn't physical labor, but it does change the physical world, even if only slightly: it removes wrinkles.
Our eyes are still misty as we scroll through our notifications. From that point on, the race begins to the end of the day, when we collapse into bed exhausted. In ancient times, people had a time for morning prayer, to orient themselves spiritually before going out into the outside world. After all, any day could be the last.
But not anymore. In our age, we are forced into the gears of a giant machine without a break to enter the spiritual world. Our minds are clogged before the day even begins. There is no time for reflection. There is no breath of peace. There is no opportunity for quiet. Before we even realize what day it is, we are turned on.
But a morning ritual gives us a little respite, a few minutes to disconnect from the digital world and return to the real world. A brief experience that forces us to focus only on what is in front of us. It brings us into a small routine and, in turn, frees our minds to wander aimlessly, sometimes introspectively.
For modern people, ironing is a mundane ritual that takes place every morning.
Nowadays, many men don't iron their clothes. They don't wear clothes that need ironing. Many don't even own an iron. They just take their clothes from the washer to the dryer and from the dryer to the dresser. Sweatshirts and jeans aren't ironed, they're tumble dried. And, of course, the clothes look worse.
But that's not all. Something else has been lost. Not just the aesthetics. The ritual of ironing has been lost.
In my routine, ironing happens after a shower. My eyes are still wet, my hair is freshly slicked back, and at this point, I'm on my second cup of coffee. I have an addiction. Yes, it's true.
I stand in front of my closet and pick out my pants and a shirt. I toss them on a chair, open the ironing board, pour some water into the iron, and wait a few minutes for it to heat up. The morning light streams in through the window. The trees outside rustle in the morning breeze. Shadows flicker on the plain fabric of the ironing board. I wait in silence.
After a few minutes, the iron is hot and I get to work. Ironing the creases in the trousers is a tedious task. I make sure I reach the front, back and sides of both legs. I take the time to iron between every single button on my OCBD. I give the collar a load of steam. I also work on the sleeve plackets where no one sees them.
It's boring. Seriously. But I can't do anything else while I'm doing it. I can't send a text or reply to an email. I have to be totally immersed in the process. And, oddly enough, it's peaceful. It's just me for a few minutes.
The physical aspect is important. Ironing is certainly not physical labor, but you're still changing the physical world, even if just a little. You're smoothing out wrinkles and creasing cotton. You're deciding to make your clothes beautiful. You're doing something deliberately, with clear intent. You're carefully crafting your aesthetic in a way that doesn't come from just grabbing a sweatshirt from the dresser and throwing it on before dashing out the door.
And in a way, this intention leads to a sense of ownership. When we care about something, we take the time to prepare it. And when we prepare something, we start to care about it. It's a cycle, a chicken-and-egg situation. Ironing leads to interest, and interest leads to ironing.
These moments of mindful intention each morning put our minds in a different place and guide our actions in a different direction. They direct us into the world with a kind of conviction and direction. We start our day with a conscious effort that leads to more conscious effort. There is something special about these minutes of modern meditation and conscious effort.
Strange, right? So small. So mundane. So uninspiring. But ironing removes us from the matrix. It gives us a chance to quietly take control of the world into our own hands.
This may have sounded strange to a peasant in 1400, since they were only doing things by hand, but for modern people who are constantly engaged in the digital world, returning to reality is a brief escape to something refreshing. It's like a breath of fresh air.
Our morning routine may seem like a small thing, but it gives us an opportunity to be still, to just be, and that's something we all need.
