Puttering
Cindy on February 4th, 2009
“The imagination needs moodling — long, inefficient, happy idling, dawdling, and puttering.” — Brenda Ueland
Right now, the landscape outside my office window looks more like the moon than southeast Michigan. Even when the sun shines, my seasonal affective disorder (SAD) is always at its worst in February. Meanwhile, several of my friends are heading to Florida this week. And I’m not.
When SAD strikes, I find it hard to concentrate or to get motivated. I get crabby and impatient and fed-up with people I’m usually fond of. But after years of battling it, I’ve learned that the best antidote — barring a trip to Bermuda — is a long afternoon of guilt-free puttering.
Cheaper than air fare or psychotherapy, puttering lets your mind wander while your body hangs out around the house. And unlike fall housecleaning, which involves physical energy and high-powered appliances, puttering puts you in a Zen-like state of bliss. Not to be confused with slacking, fidgeting, fiddling, or piddling, puttering is good for mental health. In fact, Brenda Ueland, author of the classic If You Want to Write, insisted that long periods of “moodling” (her word for puttering) are essential to the creative process.
Sadly, ours is a goal-directed, work-till-you-drop culture. And since most of us like to boast about how terribly busy we are, puttering is never easy to pull off.
For those who practice on the sly, like I do, puttering styles are varied and highly personal.
Puttering can be the act of sorting through a box of college textbooks in the basement; tinkering under the hood of an old Chevy; or rearranging things on a shelf while you listen to jazz on the stereo. In other words, puttering is a way of clarifying life’s myriad details, especially when it’s done with reverence for the objects at hand. It’s an opportunity to reconsider what we most enjoy in our homes, and to make a mental list of what we’d like to edit later.
Feeling sluggish and blue last week, I decided to putter in the kitchen. Taking inventory of my good china, I lost myself in happy memories of the two grandmothers who had actually used all the serving pieces for holiday dinners. I marveled, too, at how both sets of dishes have survived several moves and kitchen renovations â and somehow outlived their original owners.
If puttering still sounds like a chore you’ve postponed, it’s only because you haven’t found a method that cheers or relaxes you. One man’s notion of drudgery, after all, can be another’s idea of soul craft.
“I can’t explain it, but I enjoy doing dishes,” writes Thomas Moore, a former Catholic monk and author of Care of the Soul. “I’ve had an automatic dishwasher in my home for over a year, and I have never used it. What appeals to me, I think, is the reverie induced by going through the ritual of washing, rinsing, and drying.” Thomas Moore can come over to my house and wash dishes any time he visits Detroit (especially if his visit coincides with another power failure). Meanwhile, I’ll keep loading my dishwasher.
Still, there’s merit in savoring the ordinary tasks of daily living.
A lot of us spend our lives reaching for lofty goals, or at least trying to look productive 24/7. This wouldn’t be such a bad thing if so many of us weren’t scratching our heads and wondering what’s missing even after we’ve won all the trophies. (Consider all those baby-boomer executives who can’t wait to retire.)
âMy life has no purpose, no direction, no aim, no meaning, and yet I’m happy. I can’t figure it out. What am I doing right?â observed Charles M. Schulz, creator of Peanuts. Charlie Brown, after all, was pretty good at puttering. — Cindy La Ferle
– Parts of this essay are excerpted from Writing Home –
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Comments (15) 
Columns & essays, Just for writers
February 4th, 2009 at 10:56 am
Does playing games on Facebook and surfing the blogosphere while the dishes and dust pile up count as puttering? Or is it piddling?
Either way, I like the way you think. My heart goes out to you with the SAD; as a native of New Mexico, these gray days are hard for me too. Glad you’ve found a helpful anecdote.
February 4th, 2009 at 10:57 am
I meant antidote. But it’s a nice anecdote
.
February 4th, 2009 at 10:59 am
Whatever works, Pam! Personally, I find the benefits come from getting up, moving a bit, and “participating” around the house… But if Web surfing works, go for it!
February 4th, 2009 at 12:57 pm
Cindy, I like the way you think, too. Bouts of puttering have been my salvation over the past year – taking time to take stock has a meditative quality. Ordinary tasks fill my days and, when savored, I appreciate the life I have.
February 4th, 2009 at 5:16 pm
Well, you’ve inspired me. For the past few days, I’ve been in a “slump” (and an irritated slump, the worst kind). So I hereby dedicate February as “Puttering Month” for me.
February 4th, 2009 at 7:58 pm
I too suffer from S.A.D. but my worst months are September and October. (oh, OK, November and December too. Oh, and January)… Well, there’s only about 60 days left until things lift! I would rather be sleeping but puttering will do.
February 4th, 2009 at 9:06 pm
This is my favorite word and state of mind! I don’t get enough of it and blogging does not help! BTW- anytime you are on this coast drop me a line and I’d be happy to introduce you to my sweetie pie!
February 4th, 2009 at 11:03 pm
Cindy-
What a surprise I found tonight when I visited your Home Office to see that your article featured a quote I had coincidentally read just minutes before in Brenda Ueland’s inspirational book ‘If You Want to Write’. I started reading it earlier today and I can’t put it down!
Spring will be here soon. Hang in there and ‘keep on moodling’.
February 5th, 2009 at 8:17 am
Hi everyone — I should add that my SAD isn’t really a flown-blown case of depression — just the typical case of winter blues. Am so happy to have inspired you to revel in the art of guilt-free putting.
Starrlife, I would love to meet your sweetie pie one day! And Karen, you made my heart happy when you mentioned you are reading Ueland’s book. I will keep including it on my “required reading” list for the workshops. I hope you are still writing, too! — Cindy La Ferle
February 5th, 2009 at 9:54 am
Well, Cindy, just in time to cure everybody’s blues, looks like Michigan is going to get a spurt of warmer weather for the weekend!
February 5th, 2009 at 5:25 pm
Cindy,
You nailed this one, for me at least. Puttering, moodling, putzing, whatever you choose to call it is what relaxes me too. Especially when I have been at my desk far too long. My mother calls it “fiddling.” She is a master fiddler. I heard someone say once that engaging in life this way is actually a form of mindfulness practice. It calms and soothes, yet develops newfound appreciate for many things…as the good china did for you…
With love, J
February 6th, 2009 at 1:27 am
Cindy,
Did you know Pat used to believe she had SAD as well?
What you are talking about is what I liken to what I like to call occupational therapy. Low level tasks that take your mind off yourself yet feel somewhat productive and are low stress (hence, that perfectionism can’t get in the way). The main point is they take your mind away from your self. Sometimes you just need to move your body and change your thoughts. Nice post and good book tip. I’ll check that out!
February 6th, 2009 at 7:30 am
Cindy, I hear ya! I think it often clears my head to do some simple “mindless” housework. After an hour, my house is cleaner, and while I’ve been doing handiwork, my brain has been “offline” figuring out whatever it needed to figure out!
February 6th, 2009 at 5:44 pm
I have a curio cabinet filled with a cherished small doll collection. I haven’t visited, nudged, rearranged, straightened in many months. Thanks for the “puttering” motivation. I’m off to get back in touch with the history of each.
February 9th, 2009 at 5:24 pm
Cindy, I can relate! I love to putter, and this post made me feel good about taking the time to do that. Love your blog and just subscribed. Thanks for your comments at my blog, too!