Dishes

“…you must note the way the soap dish enables you…” -David Whyte

Four and a half years ago, when I first began working from home, I started to pay attention to the dishes. Weekday mornings after breakfast my wife would leave for work and my day alone would begin. I insisted on doing the dishes each day because she was the one with the fifteen-minute commute, while I only had to walk fifteen feet (it seemed only fair). Some days I would wash them right away. Other days I would wait until the late afternoon and wash them, along with all of the other dishes I would use throughout the day, right before she got home. No matter what, though, it seemed I spent about thirty minutes washing dishes (not including whatever time dinner dishes would require) every weekday.

After a couple months of this I recall making a conscious decision about this reality — I would choose to love washing the dishes. If I was going to have to spend this much time on this task every day, then I was going to enjoy it. Not making this choice, I thought, would mean “wasting” a lot of time doing something I didn’t want to do. This didn’t occur right away, but over time the feeling arrived. Soon I began to look forward to my rendezvous at the kitchen sink, eager to pick up the brush, smell the soap, hear the splashing of the water and feel the warmth of it hitting my hands.

Now, with children, this time has even greater meaning, and length. Upon finishing dinner, my wife gives our children a bath and starts the journey to bedtime. Before me is an array of dirty dishes, a messy floor, a food covered table, unresolved leftovers. And it is in that moment (if I choose to pay attention) that I witness another full day with my family, another meal enjoyed together, more shared laughs and stories. At other times, another day full of more conflicts and their corresponding resolutions, more lessons and apologies and forgiveness, more frustrations and unexpected parenting moments. Most often it is a mixture of these two things. Either way, what waits is an invitation to rinse and scrub and wash and reset to prepare for another day of this life that I belong to.

This is just one way your home is inviting you to experience your life more deeply and more purposefully. Perhaps you don’t enjoy the dishes and never will. That’s fine. I have noticed that the method is much less important than the motive. Maybe laundry could be something you love. Allowing that specific dryer smell to call you to remember each item as you fold it and remind you what you were doing and what you were feeling when you wore it. Be creative and see which everyday tasks spark in you an opportunity to fully witness the unfolding of your life.

May you see the wonder that is your home. May you look at the chores that demand your time each day as activities that sustain you and can refresh you, not as obstacles or interruptions to the other tasks you deem more important. And may you, in washing your dishes or folding your clothes or making your bed, feel the company of all those you know, and don’t know, who are doing the same.