Finding Lal Ded in the Noise

I am sitting cross-legged on my slightly bruised hardwood floor, actively trying not to think about when I will finally find the time to scrub it clean, while simultaneously attempting to achieve spiritual transcendence over the roar of the gardener unleashing an arsenal of violently loud power tools outside. More than six centuries ago in Kashmir, a woman named Lal Ded shed her clothes, walked out of a miserable marriage, and wandered the valley reciting vaakhs — piercing verses that dismantled every polite rule of religion and society. She wore only the sky. I forgot my cardigan at Waitrose last Tuesday.