I’m not much of a cook, and even less so a maid. I have traditionally seen chores like cooking and cleaning (and showering and going to the bathroom, for that matter) as evil things preventing me from experiencing life in all its fullness for however long it takes to complete the task.
But today, as I was scrubbing and, as usual, resenting my dishes and home-cooked meal for taking me away from what I really wanted to do — in this case, watch another episode of Scandal (how have I JUST discovered this show?!) and check out an online yoga site a friend has been telling me about– it occured to me that washing the dishes isn’t taking me away from life, it IS life. Washing the dishes is part of the great swirling chaos that is the joy of living, if just a small, sometimes irksome part. Kind of the way squinting is part of watching the sunrise.
So today, I embraced the dirty pans and soapy water -I welcomed them into my experience of living. And I feel kind of silly about it, but also a little bit happier. So take that as you will.