we have a dishwasher. this is a picture of it. it does not work. but it takes up space in our old kitchen that would otherwise be blank. instead, we wash dishes. by hand. the old fashioned way. it’s a good time to gaze out the window and think or have a little conversation as we wash, dry and put away. in no rush. i distinctly remember watching my sweet momma and poppo do this when i was growing up. they would stand and chat (or be quiet) and work together until one day when my dad brought home a portable dishwasher that attached via a hose to the sink. they would roll the dishwasher out of the laundry room. it would sit, attached to the faucet, in the middle of the kitchen and you had to maneuver around it to get to the cabinets or across the kitchen. ahhh. dishwashers have come so far. and yes, some haven’t. like ours.
for the last week we have had the gift of being in an absolutely beautiful place on the ocean. there are too many superlatives to list about the magic of being there, too many stories to tell. so many memories to take with us, so many learnings.
and – we had the use of a dishwasher… a real live one that actually works; it washes dishes all by itself and then dries them. amazing!
one morning, after waiting for the coffee to brew, david brought me coffee in bed and said he had realized something. during the spell of time he was waiting, after opening up the house to the rising sun, he emptied the dishwasher. he took each item out and carefully put it away in its place. slowly. when he came upstairs he told me that this simple task had actually been quite profound. and, because it’s what we do, we talked about this observation.
as we take on many new tasks with much to orient to and learn, we have agreed to do just this, to move with this simple mantra: to empty the dishwasher slowly. to put each thing gently in its place. to be mindful and intentional and not overwhelmed. each glass will get put away, each plate will stack, each utensil will nest. there is no rush. there is right now.