Dishwashing

(January 2007. Photo by Robin)

Before Enlightenment: Chop wood, carry water.
After Enlightenment: Chop wood, carry water.

— Zen saying

Washing dishes, my hands soak in the warmth and wetness of the dishwater. Washing dishes, I feel the steam from the water rising up my hands, my arms, breathing it in, soothing my sinuses on this dry winter day. Washing dishes, I listen to the bubbles popping and crinkling in the water, tickled as they burst on my arms and hands. Washing dishes, I delight in the feeling of clean. Washing dishes, I find a slow and graceful process of movement in the wiping, scrubbing, rinsing, and placing of the dishes in the dish rack. From right to left: wash, rinse, rack, wash, rinse, rack, wash, rinse, rack, until all the dishes are sparkling clean.

Washing dishes, the sunlight streams in through the window and warms me further. Washing dishes, I hear the sounds of traffic outside of our apartment building. The pattern of the traffic sounds begins to sound like waves, rolling in and out.

Washing dishes, I am thankful that my feet, legs, and back are all supporting me. Washing dishes, I am thankful for the floor, the building, and the earth that also support me.  Washing dishes, I am thankful that I am right here, right now, washing dishes.

Washing dishes, I can see and feel my accomplishment, a job well done.

The web of life

(June 2006. Photo by Robin)

“The web of life is a beautiful and meaningless dance. The web of life is a process with a moving goal. The web of life is a perfectly finished work of art right where I am sitting now.” — Robert Anton Wilson

It is said in Native American lore that Grandmother Spider brought light to the people. In one version she captured the sun and brought its warmth and light down to the earth. In another she steals fire from the people of the East, giving it to the humans, teaching them how to feed the fire and make it grow, and then staying to also teach them about spinning and weaving, something she is expert at doing.

In another myth, Grandmother Spider placed the stars in the sky. She took her web, laced with dew, and threw it up into the sky where the dew became the stars we see at night.

When I look up at the stars tonight I shall thank Grandmother Spider for her gift of light.  How dull the skies might be without the twinkle, sparkle, and shimmer of all those lovely stars.