Distractions

The Lego’s had been scattered all over the living room floor for three days.  I let it go because my kids told me they were still playing. And at first, that was kind of true. But by day two, the mess had spread beyond the confines of the play area, and by day three, the floor was so overtaken by little plastic pieces, that even if you had teeny tiny feet, you literally could not step anywhere without stepping on a Lego. And, of course, with the Lego’s strewn about in such a flurry of chaos, the kids moved onto playing with other toys.

“Kids, you need to put the Lego’s away.”

“OK,” they chirped, deeply engaged with their Matchbox cars.

“You need to put them away NOW.”

Silence.

“Just toss all the pieces into the bin.”

They looked at the mess then looked back at me. Their eyes communicated an anguish of, you expect US to conquer THAT?

“I know it’s a big job,” I said compassionately, “but if you work together it can be fun and easy.  And it really doesn’t have to take that long. Just stay focused on putting the pieces away and you’ll be done before you know it!”

I left the room, expecting them to get started. But when I came back five minutes later I was surprised to find that they hadn’t even gotten up from their spots. Nothing had changed. Not a piece.

“Cuties… I told you to clean up! Why are you still sitting around playing with your cars? Come on and get moving!”

“Oh, yah,” said one, “I forgot.”

“Me too,” said the other.

This time I made sure they were up and cleaning before I left the room. I got them started and even tried to make it into a game.  About 2 minutes after I left the room I heard crying.

What happened? Did someone swallow a Lego?!

I went to see what the commotion was all about.

 “That’s my Star Wars Lego!” yelled one. “Give it back.”

“But I’m cleaning up so I am allowed to hold  it,” snapped the other.

“Nuh-uh,” cried the first, “you’re not allowed to touch my toys, even if you’re cleaning up!”

“Omigosh!” I sighed. “Really?”

It took a few minutes but we successfully settled the argument and established some new rules. They knew what they had to do, they were up and moving, and were totally on track. I told them to keep it up and I stepped out of the room to make dinner.  But after ten minutes of silence I got suspicious. Could they already be done? That would be impressive, I thought. So I went to check on them, but low and behold, they were nowhere to be found. And the room was still a total disaster.

I called their names. No response.

 I looked upstairs and downstairs. Couldn’t find them.

That’s strange…where could they be?  Finally I had the idea to look outside and sure enough, there they were, jumping up and down on the trampoline, singing and laughing, without a care in the world.

“Guys, what are you doing out here!? You are supposed to be cleaning up. You can’t be jumping on the trampoline now. Go back inside and finish the job!”

I ushered them back in and stayed for a few minutes to make sure they were doing what they were supposed to. They moved soooo sloooowwwly. And complained sooooo much.  Every step, every bend was suddenly the hardest, most back-breaking labor, EVER.  Somehow pulling OUT all of the Lego’s is quick, easy and fun, but putting them BACK is cruel and unusual. And with that attitude, I’m automatically cast the heartless taskmaster.

“But Ima….”

So to make their job easier, I gave them a mini broom and dustpan. “Look guys” I said in my best Mary Poppins voice “if it’s hard to pick up the pieces by hand, just sweep them into the dustpan, then dump em in the bucket. It’s easy.”

They thought this looked like fun.

“I’ll be back in 5 minutes to see your progress. I’m sure you’ll be done by then if you work together. Good luck!”

5 minutes later my jaw almost dropped when I walked into the room.

There they were, sitting in the thick of it, PLAYING.  The broom and dustpan were under the couch, plastic pieces had somehow shifted like platectonics to form new islands of disarray, and there they were, happily sharing their pieces, building a space ship.

This time I was really annoyed. “Come on already! It’s almost bedtime. You haven’t even eaten dinner yet and you had all afternoon to clean this up. It shouldn’t take this long! Stop playing. Get up. And finish the job.”

They eventually got the job done but not without lots of help from me. For every ten pieces they put away I probably did a hundred.  And as I was helping them, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was some spiritual significance to this seemingly mundane situation.

Here we are, in a world full of so many distractions. And simultaneously, Hashem requires us to pick up these pieces, to uplift them, and to fix the world. It’s the very things we are meant to uplift and fix up that are the most distracting of all! Like food, relationships, children, shopping and just about every other element of the physical and material world. Like my children’s’ plight, sometimes we forget, fight, wander off, get upset and play…

The evil inclination –the Yetzer Hara – doesn’t want us to accomplish our mission on earth. He’s the opposition; he’s dangerous, for he’s subtle. He distracts us from our main task with all sorts of seemingly friendly distractions, like YouTube and Facebook. I wonder how many unfed children there will be today because their mothers were Facebooking…

If we stay on task and put forth the effort Hashem will help us. All we have to do is open up a tiny hole to let some Divine light enter our lives. We open that hole, which is nothing more than the size of a needle, and Hashem opens us a wide world of opportunity, gratification and joy. Our job is to simply remember our task on earth. Let’s focus and get to work, and Hashem will move worlds for us.