© 2009 Lynsey

117 – After the ecstasy…

My Dad always washed the dishes in our home. His view was that he helped dirty the dishes, therefore he’d help clean up the dishes. And he did, faithfully, after every meal. He wasn’t a big talker, was my Dad, he was a get on with it kind of guy.

Maybe it’s in the genes, because I don’t mind doing the dishes either. I don’t have Dad’s rationale, for me it’s more of an opportunity to stop thinking about whatever and instead concentrate on the task at hand. Except I don’t know if concentration is the right word. When I was in high school I worked in a restaurant washing dishes and doing food prep. I would wash dishes by myself for hours – it never really worried me, and I didn’t find it dull. I could do the task so automatically I could fly my spirit away over the rooftops, over the hills, down the river and over the ocean. I’d come back at the end of my shift feeling tired from having stood for a long time, but feeling good – uplifted – from the flight. I welcome that feeling.

Manifesto
14. Every day the ordinary can be the extraordinary.
26. Every day take action. Every small step counts.
47. Every day you are responsible.

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