What My Iron Made Me Think About Today

The thing about ironing, like many chores in life, is you either hate it or love it. And as with many facets of life, the parallels to ironing are plenty.

Take writing for example. Just like ironing, one has to muster up the motivation to get started. Warm up the iron. Warm up your brain. Pull together the clothes that need to be de-wrinkled. Pull together the ideas that need sorted out in your head. With both, one must just get started. Neither can be done without your hands put to the task. Ironic, isn’t it?

Relationships have many parallels to ironing. How many people do you know live through the wrinkles, simply by taking time to iron them out and, as a result, have their lives feel soft and cozy again? (Of course there are times you want to take the hot iron and do the unthinkable to your significant other, but that’s when you really just need to iron away by yourself and get the thinking out. Let it be therapy. Then, unplug, cool off, and communicate about the wrinkles.)

Teaching has parallels to ironing, too. There’s the preparation. The patience. The perseverance. The accidental burns, and the many different settings. Sometimes there’s steam. Sometimes there’s a dribble that gets on your clothes– if your bladder isn’t cooperating until your next planned break. (Of course, that’s never happened to me, I’ve just heard stories.) There’s lots of focus that both require. I’ll take teaching over ironing any day, though.

Today, as I went through all my Sunday chores to prepare for the week, the ironing was one I put off until I just couldn’t any longer. As I set up the squeaky ironing board with the brown marks from when I accidentally left the iron face down for too long, I quickly found a rhythm to the madness. And maybe, just maybe, I can take those parallel thoughts into my week when some much needed perspective is called for.

I’ve got one shirt left–my iron is almost out of steam. Must be time for a nap.




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