|Summer view from the kitchen sink|
I think about the amazing conversations I would always have with my mom growing up. When she washed, I would dry. It was always great time for us to talk about everything under the sun and we still have those amazing conversations when I am home. When she comes and visits, I wash and she dries, and still, it feels like yesterday I was about 8 years old helping with dishes.
I think about my Italian grandma and great grandma, two super strong women always whipping a wooden cutting board out of the sink and gracefully putting things away. My hope is that I embody as much grace and passion for cooking now and as I age.
I think about how grateful I am for hot water and that it comes out of my faucet whenever I want it. When I traveled to Nepal and India, the work it took to create hot water humbled me and I always think about the ease I live with.
I think about the meals I share with the people I love. Whether it's a squash soup on a winter evening or a grilled salmon with The Man, coming together for meals creates a feeling in my heart that can't be replaced or replicated. I value this precious time and wouldn't trade it for the world.
I think about my day and how I showed up with my interactions and my work. Did I make a difference? Did I make people laugh? Did I empower people to live powerfully? Did the day feel like a win? Are there things I need to complete in terms of my interactions and if so, can I have some grace with myself around those things?
I think about the garden and the yard, and how there is so much to do, always. It's overwhelming yet exciting all at the same time.
I think about getting out on hikes more. The kitchen window above the sink looks out to the Olympics and I feel the adventurous spirit in me wanting to drop everything and go.
I think about the state of the world, the suffering, the collective pain and say a prayer for more peace and ease and compassion.
I think about the last time I practiced yoga or sat for meditation. It always seems like ages ago and make a mental note about stretching the next morning. And flossing too.
This carved out time is a meditation, a time to reflect, a time to also just do the dishes. It's part of my spiritual practice, a time to slow down and just be. I always feel super proud when I finish, the stainless steel double sink gleaning with accomplishment. The dishes stacked high in the drying rack. Soon I will make my cup of tea, brush my teeth, put on my sleep clothes, and wind down with a book. And tomorrow will come and more dishes will be used because meals will be cooked and eaten with love.