My Dishwater Philosophy

I'm not one to make new year's resolutions. They're not effective for me. A year is too long. I prefer to make my changes as they strike me. I test them for a period of time; 3 weeks to a month usually. I tweak them. I achieve them. I also have ditched them. For me, my life is about change, flexibility and freedom. I use what works, change what doesn't.

Stumbling on a year-long resolution 3 or 4 months into it means stress, guilt and self-flagellation. That's not the most conducive road to achievement for me.

Besides this, my philosophy on this subject was made clearer to me in my kitchen sink.

I was doing dishes at the sink one day. The kids were gone, the house was quiet. I had nowhere to be, no particular responsibility to respond to at the time so as I puttered, I gazed out the window over the sink, just musing over life.

I looked into the sink, thinking water is a metaphor for life. Without water, there is no life.

I swirled my hands around in the warmth and suds, moving the water around with slow, gentle motions.

Then I slowly squeezed my hands into tight fists, lifted them, opened them then studied my wrinkly palms and fingertips.

I swirled my hands in the water again. I was thinking.

I plunged my hands into the sudsy water, cupped each hand softly, brought the pinky edges together under the water and lifted them up. My hands came up filled with so much MORE than water. The bubbles made peaks twice as high as my cupped hands and they shone. I could see prisms on the arcs of most of them.


I brought my hands a bit closer to my face. I studied the way the bubbles were built on one another, the ones on the bottom supporting the upper ones. I noted that each one was clear but that as a whole they appeared white. The deeper I looked, the more I saw.


I sniffed. Yum. Green apple.

I finished up those dishes, thinking that a sink full of sudsy dishwater is so like life.

The harder I fight and grasp over-zealously, frustratingly at whatever I might want in life, the quicker it escapes my grasp. This is what I've found to be true in my life.

When I trust gently and deeply that I will have what I want and poise myself with open arms to catch and scoop up the bounty of life, I get so much more than I bargained for or even believed that I could manage. It is this way with the amount of water that can fit inside a fist compared to the amount that can be collected with a cupped hand.


The deeper I appreciate all that's abundant in my life, the more depth of beauty I recognize in even the smallest blessings given to me. Just as when I looked deeply into the small cloud of dishwater bubbles.


A key item for me...the more I appreciate all the things that fill my cupped hands, it seems the bigger my hands get, able to hold more and more.


As is the way with dishwater, I realize sometimes there will be a small piece of grungy lettuce leaf or something in with the water and suds. It's to be expected. The same applies to life.


Abundance isn't necessarily perfection. I expect a bit of bad with the good. I find the most effective way handle these bumps in life is to just deal with it. It's to be expected. I do my best not to be upset over it. I try to deal with it in the same way that I wouldn't be upset over seeing a bit of wilty lettuce in the dishwater. I find it best to take care of it and move right along.

This is the way I plan for this year to be my best yet!

Can You Feel It?

Well, it's here. Can you feel it? I can. 


I noticed it about 2 weeks ago when I was watching my son at football practice as I walked through the trees, with the leaves crunching under my feet, breathing in the cool air.


Fall. Already. The leaves are all turning orange and red, making the stroll along "my" river across the street a beautiful, serene outing.

Though I wish it were still to arrive because I'm not quite ready for it yet, I love fall. I love to be snuggled and warm in a fleece shirt and a jacket with the tip of my nose chilly. I love to stride through the leaves, my feet swishing through the crackly groundcover.


When I walk in the crisp air, I love to smell the woodsmoke as people begin to feel the chill then light their fireplaces...or the more adventurous ones go to "my" park on the river and light a fire to roast hotdogs and marshmallows over the flames.


I love the way the sunsets look in fall, the sun going down behind the flaming leaves, red orange on red and orange. And if I'm near the pond in "my" park, I get double the pleasure because it's all reflected in the smooth surface of the water on the pond, broken only by the ripples made by lazing ducks.


I love to hear the distinctive cacophonic honking of Canada geese as they start their journey south. Unbelievable the distances they travel. I often wonder how many miles a goose covers in its lifetime.
It's time to start bundling up. Time to find the gloves and hats and have them ready to protect hands and heads.


It's the time of year for hot, hearty soups and stews. The time of year for welcoming aromas floating through homes, beckoning and enticing people in to stay and enjoy some hospitality.


It's the time of year for cutting back everything in the garden.


It's the time of year for raking up the yard. It's the time of year for snuggling under a blanket with a good book. It's the time of year for families to nestle in together and appreciate the love they share with one another. It's the time of year for family board game nights, family movie nights. It's the time of year where evenings are dark and warm lights are lit in homes and you can see, through the windows as you pass by, the families interacting with each other.


It's the time of year where you go outside in the mornings and the lawn is frosty but soon, once the sun has been up for a bit, the blades of grass thaw then shimmer with water droplets.


For me, this is the family time of year. It's the time of year for warmth and happiness and fellowship. It's the time of year for families and friends to gather, appreciate and embrace one another. It's the time of year for love.