The Ancient Art of Bathroom Zen

By Sharie Derrickson

For several months now, my husband, daughter and I have had to do the unthinkable – share one bathroom, something my husband says is against the Geneva Convention and has contacted Amnesty International lodging charges that his basic human right to leave hair in the sink is being repressed.

But, my daughter and I are close to having our own bathroom – a project that has taken less planning than the Summer Olympics. The reason for this is that women need more stuff in their bathroom than men do – God made us that way – which is one reason why He designed us so that we just can’t walk outside and go. However, it is this difference between the sexes that has led to much contention in my house.

According to bathroom scientist, men only need about six sundries in their bathroom – a toothbrush, toothpaste, a razor, a comb, a towel, and a magazine, and they only need about 15 minutes each morning to complete their daily ritual. Women, on the other hand require about 200 items, most of which require special lighting to use, and on average, women will spend almost 30,000 hours of their life in the bathroom, while men will spend less than 8,000.

And, according to the same scientists, men will spend the other 22,000 hours waiting to get into the bathroom, one of the primary reasons that my daughter and I need our own bathroom.

A typical Saturday goes something like this:

My husband: Knock. Knock. “Can I get in there please?”

My daughter and I in unison from behind the door: “Why?”

My husband: “Because I have to use the bathroom. Why else would I have to get into the bathroom?”

Me: “Can you use the bathroom downstairs?”

My husband: “Why don’t you use the bathroom downstairs? This is, after all, my bathroom.”

My daughter: “Because the lighting is bad in that bathroom.”

My husband: “Oh. Yeah. How stupid of me. I wasn’t thinking. Sorry.

Last year, we remodeled my husband’s bathroom so that my daughter and I would have a bathroom to use while ours was in the “developmental stage.” His old bathroom was just too ugly to use, and nothing will put a woman in a bad mood as easily as an ugly bathroom, according to my “Feng Shui for Bathrooms” book.

So, after months of my daughter claiming “squatter’s rights” on my husband’s bathroom, we are nearing the ribbon cutting ceremony to our own version of the dream bathroom – our own Taj Mahal complete with “makeup appropriate” lighting, and enough outlets to power a football stadium.

Over the past several months, we have had several family meetings regarding the overall “feel” of the bathroom – what sort of ambiance or theme we wanted.

“Okay, I’ve called you both here today to discuss what motif we want to go with,” I said, holding a stack of design books.

“How about a bathroom motif – you know – a toilet, a shower, and some towels,” my husband said.

“Funny,” I said, sarcastically.

“What do you mean, funny? It’s a bathroom. What’s to design?”

“Look, according to this Feng Shui book, an unbalanced bathroom can knock your ying and yang all askew. It’s important that we choose the right colors and materials so that there is harmony and a proper flow of energy. I think we should go with something kind of Zen.”

“Okay, Grasshopper, what exactly does Zen have to do with a bathroom – in fact, I’m not even sure I know what Zen is.”

“Zen – you know – that enlightenment can come through self-meditation. Zen.”

“Riiiiigggghhhhhhtttt,” my husband said.

“The purpose of Zen is to reach enlightenment or Nirvana.”

“And you are going to do that in the bathroom?”

“Well, that’s oversimplifying it, but yes, by the proper use of design elements of earth, wind, and fire.”

“You are going to have fire in the bathroom?”

“It’s a metaphor, Dad,” my daughter said.

“A metaphor for what? Your blow dryer?”

“Honey, this is serious business. If you use the wrong components, you will mess up the Karma.”

“Karma?”

“Yes, the cosmic forces of retribution,” I said. “We want good Karma.”

“So let me get this right – you could knock the forces of the universe out of whack and set off a chain reaction of negative energy because you picked the wrong paint?”

“Well, in the very least, it would be bad Dharma.”

“And Dharma is what again?” he asked.

“Dharma is important to remove dead or stagnant energies.”

“I thought that is what a toilet is for.” Apparently, my husband has no problem tempting fate by messing with the forces of the universe and in having a bathroom that emits negative energy, which is one of the reasons my daughter and I have worked feverously to move into our own. He’s doomed.

So we set off to pick out paint color. Besides bathrooms, paint color is another fundamental difference between men and women. If left to their own devices, men would paint everything either beige or gray, or whatever color was on sale that day. Women, on the other hand, see paint color as an important decision that shouldn’t be done lightly or hastily. The wrong paint, especially in a bathroom, can lead to disaster.

“We need a color that represents earth,” I said to the paint salesman at the paint store.

I could see his and my husband’s eyes make a connection – a connection that said, “Just go along with her buddy or you will be sorry.”

“You mean, like a dirt color?” he said.

“No. Not a dirt color – more like a color that would be stone – I am trying to bring the outdoors inside – give the bathroom an earthy feel to it.”

My husband took off as my daughter and I frustrated the paint guy with the reasons why the colors he selected would be bad for the bathroom’s Chi.

“How about these two colors?” my husband asked, holding two beautiful color samples.

“That’s it,” I chimed. “Perfect. Those will create a positive energy flow in our new bathroom. You’re a genius,” I said, hugging my husband. “What colors are those?”

“Beige and gray,” he said.

Oh well. It’s okay that he’s right – SOMETIMES. Plus, he can use as much positive Karma as he can get.

© 2006 Sharie Derrickson. Previously printed in the Thousand Islands Sun.