Love, by nature, wants to give itself away. (Originally written 6/8/2011)

I have ten more days in South Africa. Up until now, I've avoided the inevitable countdown in a "this is never going to end" sense of denial. However, it's time to face the fact that I have to move on to the next phase of my life, and I better make the most of the time I have left in this beautiful, scary, wonderful, complex city.

The other day, I read a wonderful blog post that got me thinking about love and service. I'm not talking about the mushy-gushy romantic kind of love, but the we're-all-human-and-we're-all-in-this-together kind of love. It's the love that Jesus talked about, the love Mo Tzu talked about, the love the Dalai Lama talks about. It's Ubuntu.

I like to think that I do service because I care about the state of the world, because I care about people and human rights, because I want to make this crazy world a little bit better. But here's the thing: all too often, I do service because it's what I'm supposed to do. I serve out of a sense of obligation, of duty. And yes, the Habitat house will be built and the Dance for All networking will get done, but have I done any good?

When I serve from a place of love, everything changes. When I do anything from a place of love, the whole actions changes. Let's take washing dishes, for example. There are 20 people living in the Kimberly House. We generate a lot of dishes, and they often don't get washed. I got into the habit of periodically attacking the kitchen, cleaning everything in sight, getting rid of the pile of dishes in the sink. I am, by no means, the only person who does this – and I often play a role in creating that giant mess. At first, I began washing dishes out of a sense of guilt: I am uncomfortable with the idea of Knox (our awesome housekeeper) cleaning up after a bunch of privileged Americans who couldn't be bothered to wash their dishes and put them away. I am embarrassed by our collective mess, angry.

However, after thinking about actions of love, I have begun to approach this cleaning in an entirely new, mindful way. As I stand at the sink, I think about the many reasons I love my housemates, and how my cleaning up after them might reduce their stress in some way, maybe even if they don't realize it outright. I think about Knox, with her beautiful smile and quiet calm as she sweeps, mops, and cleans the toilets for one group of American students after another. When I perform this task with love, intention, and mindfulness, it becomes a source of joy rather than shame or anger. Tich Nhat Hanh writes that “each thought, each action in the sunlight of awareness becomes sacred. In this light, no boundary exists between the sacred and the profane." When I am fully aware of my actions, both motivationally and physically, they can become a sacred act, and, in my opinion, an act of love for whomever or whatever benefits from that act.

Hanh also writes that “practicing mindfulness enables us to become a real person. When we are a real person, we see real people around us, and life is present in all its richness." Ubuntu is all about becoming a "real person": it's about acknowledging my own humanity and that of everyone else with whom I interact. So, I'm trying to approach my actions – everything from dish washing to service work – with a sense of love and mindfulness. Even the most mundane tasks can become extraordinary. I'm trying to become a real person.