Guess what I found in the dish water?

Have you ever had one of those weeks where it all is just too big? It is almost as if I started the week half holding my breath and knowing that this was going to be a really full and busy week. Not the kind of week you find yourself looking forward too, rather the kind you hear about from a friend and think “why would anyone schedule their week so full?”. Last week was like that for me. I think it becomes even more painful when you realize how off center you are. Last week I was so far off center that a feather could have knocked me over. That is when I realized the dishwasher was on its last leg. Bless its heart; we have been gently nudging it along since we bought our home because it was the only item of modern convenience that greeted us. We purchased a 1910 Victorian farmhouse that was in desperate need of renovation. The dishwasher was a thoroughly welcome sight amidst the 1960’s electric stove and lack of microwave or refrigerator.

With the dishwasher broken I had 2 huge loads of dishes to wash by hand and no time to think about throwing a fit. As the hot water filled the sink the soap suds grew and expanded leaving a luxurious pillowy cloud in which I plunged my hands and furiously began scrubbing dishes. Not sure how many dishes I had scoured when my Pleasure Meter (see my blog It Pegged My Pleasure Meter) started to remember how nurturing and therapeutic washing dishes by hand can be. I found myself watching a squirrel in the yard as she (I’m assuming based on how she was multi-tasking so efficiently) scurried down the tree checking and digging up what seemed to be a pecan nut. All the while she was moving so thoughtfully and going about her duties while keeping a vigilant eye out for Murphy, her most annoying predator and my fearless Irish terrier. A bird caught my attention as it swooped across the window and landed just below the outer window sill on my heirloom rose bush. The brilliant red of the Cardinal made me catch my breath and giggle with amusement as he (nature has a way of making the males so beautiful . . . almost unfair) primped and sang with pleasure. A deep sigh escaped my lips and I realized it was the first deep breath I had taken in hours.

So this is why it is preferable to have a kitchen window over the sink. I realized how many women through time had gazed out their kitchen windows while washing the dishes and somehow felt connected to them all. . . a part of the domestic goddess club.

So what did I find in the dishwater? I found the peace and centering that comes from being in the moment. From this awareness I began to enjoy washing the dishes, feeling the warm water wash over my hands and wrists. I imagined washing away my stress, the events of the week that had been less than enjoyable and thanked that sink full of suds for bringing me into the moment with joy.

When was the last time you washed the dishes by hand? I would love to hear about what treasures you found in the dishwater.

Soul Hugs!

Marianne