I'm not a fan of washing up. I see its purpose, but I don't enjoy. So I rush it to get through it as quickly as possible.
Last night, as I rushed through yet another pile of washing up, I suddenly remembered 'Care and Attention'. And, as if by magic, I started to slow down... to relax...
I've noticed this happening a few times during the week. I think what happens lies at the heart of the word 'care'. Whenever I do something with care, I notice that I go a little slower, I don't cut corners, I ensure that it looks well, that there is some indefinable essence of quality to it. Care creates quality. It really does transform the mundane - the mud, if you will! - into something that has been done from my heart. And that heart-felt quality is tangible, even if only to me. But I suspect others notice it too.
So as I stood in my pink rubber gloves, elbow-high in suds, I stopped rushing. I started to pay attention to what I was doing, to wrap care around this loath-some taks, and I felt different. I felt like I was caring for myself, because I wasn't standing there resenting and rushing the job. It wasn't even being fully attentive that made the difference. It was care. Care for the task somehow became care for myself.
Post a Comment