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My Love of Washing Dishes
What does this say about me?
Washing dishes (by hand) is one of my favorite things in the whole world to do. It brings me great joy. For me it is a spiritual practice much like meditation or yoga. It is a chance to clear my noggin of all thought and become intensely present in the moment, allowing peace and joy and love to flow/gush through my entire being.
If you were to ask any of my ‘real life’ friends or family — anyone who has actually witnessed me washing dishes — they would all no doubt say that I am a weirdo. Some would call me a Luddite. They just don’t understand.
There is no electric dish washing appliance in the apartment in which I have been living for the last almost six years. If there was one I would just use it for storage. I certainly would never use it to actually wash dishes thus depriving myself of the powerful pleasure of washing them by hand.
Scanning the memory banks of my noggin, I realize that I have only used a dishwasher appliance once in the last thirty-five years. It happened on a certain Thanksgiving holiday.
It happened way, way, way back during my daughter’s senior year in high school. I single-handedly prepared an elaborate Thanksgiving turkey meal for fifteen people. It may very well have been my greatest culinary achievement. Everything turned…
