# Habit as Refuge

A group of us went to visit our friend Tannika. She'd been unwell for several days—caught a bad cold, fever, runny nose, cough, the works.

We brought some fruit along. We'd assumed her room would be in disarray, neglected. We thought we'd tidy up for her, set things right. She lives alone, after all.

When we got there, we found—despite her condition—that she'd kept the entire apartment spotless. Gleaming. We were bewildered. "You've left us nothing to do!" we said, laughing. She smiled back. "Look," she said, "it wasn't easy. But the thing is, I like keeping my space clean. If I let my surroundings go to pieces while I'm sick, I'll only get worse with each passing day. But here's what really matters: if I allow myself to think even once, 'I don't feel like cleaning today,' then tomorrow I'll tell myself again, and the day after that. And with this body, there's no point cleaning anymore. And then what happens? I'll slip into that comfort zone, and climbing back out becomes almost impossible. Why invite that? Will you all be here every day to clean up after me? Ha ha ha... Yes, it takes me longer now than it used to. But moving around a little, keeping active—it feels good, you know?"

What remarkable grace. What wisdom in that mind. A person, truly, is as large as their spirit. Never strangle a vital habit in cold blood. All that does is add another weight to carry.