The Holy Gift of House Work ...

Yesterday I did three loads of laundry and took them up to M's house to hang on the line in the back yard ... as I hung the assortment of clothes and other asundry I felt a sense of serenity I haven't experienced in a very long time ... It got me wondering what it is about hanging laundry on the line that is so peaceful and relaxing ...

Then last night I read a passage in Fulghum's "Maybe (maybe not)" where he describes pressing a shirt in intimate detail and ends with the reflection:

To this day, I usually tend to my own shirts.

Only because it gives me solitary pleasure.

The kind we all enjoy alone when doing out nails, or taking a bath or shaving or weeding in the garden or chopping wood or knitting or baking bread or hanging sheets out on the line.

Sure, sometimes these activities are just a matter of taking care of personal business or routine tasks. But as often as not, we use these times to reflect and talk to ourselves.

Or meditate - even pray.

Just because you aren't on you knees in church or sitting still in a cramped position doesn't mean you can't be talking to God. Just because both you and God are busy doesn't mean you can't be in touch.

Such times are the sacred part of the secret life.

Such times keep my soul sane.

That's WHY I enjoy hanging laundry on the line ... the solitary pleasure that it brings ... yesterday hearing a blue jay chattering over the persistent hum of lawnmowers and weed whackers in distance, the rustle of the breeze through the yellowing leaves on the trees, and feeling the warmth of the sun on the back of my neck ... ALL of it brought into a being a holy moment that was entirely MINE, and mine alone!