I learnt one of my biggest life lessons at the kitchen sink.
I stood there. At the kitchen sink. Me and my yellow-gloved hands mindlessly going through the motions.
My kids arguing.
My husband out.
Me washing up.
Could it be any more boring? Is this it? I had a sinking feeling that this was all there was. My mind wandered off to far-away lands where mothers felt fulfilled in daily tasks, and pigs flew.
And then there was a little tap-tap at my mind. Awareness begged “Let me in” in a faint faraway whisper.
I had been reading a book on Buddhism, and how to meditate. Not the type of meditation in a darkened room, with the lights low and candle in a corner. Not the meditation that required silence, stillness. No, this was about meditation during the ordinary moments. The everyday stuff, right in the thick of it. And this moment was surely one of them!
Right, I inhaled, what did it say? My memory opened slowly as I searched for lost thoughts.
Focus. Be present, and say out loud each and every movement and thought. This is silly I told my self. “It wont help.” I frowned into the kitchen sink irritated by the slow leak in my left glove.
But I took a breath; I stood, and meditated right there at the kitchen sink.
I began in a quiet mutter “I am picking up a glass, putting glass into sink, hands are in sink, sink is my world right now. There is only the sink. I am the sink (Well, no I didn’t quite get to to that place)
Rinse and repeat.
Then what? You may ask.
A miracle, stillness crept in. Not into the room, not into my children’s room, but there it was, right down deep inside of me. A gift left by an anonymous friend. A meal in a time of need. Nourishment.
The arguing kids were still arguing, but I wasn’t. I was no longer arguing with myself. Fighting against what was and what is and what will be.
I was calm because all I heard was all that is. In that moment. No judgment, no hopelessness, no looking for the nearest exists.
Sink and me.