I've done dishes at least 18,250 times. Figuring there are five pots and pans every time, that's a total of washing 91,250 pots and pans. This is a conservative figure, factoring in my age and not including the first 22 years of life.
Lately I've been wondering where they all come from. There are just two of us now. My husband, kindly, gives me a break when he's not working.
All that said, I have had something remarkable happen. There are actually some days I enjoy doing the dishes. The process is therapeutic - the hot water; the time just to think without other distractions. It's during these moments my brain is free to imagine. Ideas form when I'm scrubbing gook. They also come when I'm cleaning bathrooms, watering flowers, and walking the dog.
Can you guess how I got the idea for this post? Answer: Stirring the rice in the pan I will soon scour. I'm almost convinced these mundane tasks are secret life incubators that birth creativity. Almost.
Find my devotional, The Art of Writing, on Amazon.
1 comment:
THIS IS SOOO ME! HAHAH. Thank you for sharing this poem!
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