“Permit yourself the luxury of doing just one thing.”
~Lao Tzu

These are the words that greeted me as I slipped into my chair. The retreat I am blessed to be a part of in these beginning days of Lent is made up of clergy from around Minnesota. Half of us traveled together all last year in a process of reflection, art, words and deep silence as we seek to understand what it means to be in leadership, spiritual leadership, in authentic ways in the various communities in which we serve. Not the slick, prescribed ways that can sometimes make up the programs offered by ‘leadership’ books and consultants. There are no five easy steps to a better leader in this process. Only the long, hard look at one’s own self and the gifts planted there in some Mysterious pattern. This way of working is not for everyone. It doesn’t move quickly or in any linear way. It requires a certain giving over, a letting go of expectations, a piercing eye that looks at all our beauty marks and all our warts.

The notion of allowing the ‘luxury’ of doing just one thing’ is not only a lost art but one that might even be frowned upon in our multi-tasking world. We pride ourselves on being able to text, make supper, sign off on a big deal, correct the children’s spelling words, while listening to an audio book. Of course, science has shown that in living this way we are not only not doing any of these things well but that this many-pronged approach to working messes with our brains and our ability to maintain an attention span that matters. This doesn’t even touch on what this fractured living does to our relationships.

There was something quite profound for me to walk into the room on the sixth day of Lent and see these words. On Sunday we had heard the scripture story of Jesus’ trials in the desert. This wilderness journey which begins our forty days of reflective living carries all the wisdom of the ‘luxury of doing just one thing.’ Eat. Drink. Stay alive. Pray. Be your own best companion. Notice how the Holy shows up. These are all wilderness experiences, ones that require a certain presence that can’t be cluttered with multitasking. Paying attention to each gets you further down the path than trying to do two or more of them at the same time.

Wilderness comes to each of us. Some of us, it seems, more often than others. The wisdom of the wilderness, and I would say every day, is to remember the luxury of doing just one thing. It has been my experience that the impulse in any wilderness situation is to try to do as many things as one can to get out of there as fast as possible. Like the car stuck in mud or snow, spinning the tires faster and harder almost never propels the driver out of the hole that is being dug deeper and deeper. Doing one thing, gently, slowly, even quietly, usually has a better result.

So for all the people who are wilderness walking in these days of Lent, may you know the luxury of doing just one thing. For all those whose lives feel full to overflowing with too ‘muchness’, The blessing of a pause and one detail. For those simply trying to dance on the icy pavement or dodge the puddles of these thawing weeks, one safe step at a time. Put down the phone. Turn off the sound. Focus……on the luxurious gift of the present.