The Jasmine was a housewarming gift that arrived last January, already budding. The instructions attached were quite specific: 1) place in a cool room that is bright with indirect sunlight; 2) make sure the room has no artificial light coming in at night; and 3) in addition to watering, keep a tray of water under the plant to keep it hydrated. Within days, it was covering in small, white, fragrant flowers – offering just enough fragrance to notice and appreciate.

With a move to another house a few months back, I wasn’t sure the Jasmine would bloom this winter, but buds appeared in mid-January. In spite of many being eaten by my son’s cat (they are non-toxic), the first few have opened up – a flash of white on green and a hint of fragrance in the air.

Sometimes, I think that chores in general are much like tending a plant: the means for a flash of beauty to grow in our lives. The effort it takes to do this daily work is what gives us the eyes to see the beauty and the heart to love both the process and the result. Without doing the chores, perhaps no beauty would bloom in our lives; without doing the chores, we might not notice it even if it did.

From start to finish, it takes about half an hour. Once it’s done, it looks great until the first handwashing. Then there are water spots on the mirror and a little dribble of soap down the newly wiped dispenser. The hand towel is wrinkled and no longer hanging straight.

When anyone in the house is sick, there’s extra disinfecting and cleaning. The toothbrushes have to be sterilized in the dish washer, and the towels changed out frequently. Maintaining a clean bathroom is a thankless and necessary job offering little satisfaction when it’s done. I slog my way through it with little joy or gratitude. When the job is done, the best I can say is that no one will catch a dread disease by using it – and the towels on the bars are all clean and ready for use.

Perhaps there will be a day when I appreciate cleaning the bathroom. That day was not yesterday, when I cleaned it, nor will it be when I clean it next. The best I can say now is that I enjoy it in a secondary sense: it’s wonderful to sink into a clean tub full of hot water after a cold January day. Enlightenment in all tasks and thoughts eludes me still. Maybe some day…

I can tell how busy I am by the level of the laundry in the hamper. If I can’t shut it without a good push, it’s been busy; if I’m out of socks, it’s been hectic; if I’m out of clean towels, there’s too much on my plate.

I’m not sure why the laundry reflects the state of my life pace. Is it because I can’t do without it, and I can’t avoid the consequences of not doing it? Laundry is an outward sign of my life’s inward state, a revelation of how I am living in this world and inside my own skin. When I lose touch with my own life, all I have to do is open my closet door and look at the state of my hamper.

Or check my sock drawer, and act accordingly.

Every meal, every snack, every cup of tea or coffee in a thermos adds to the daily pile of dirty dishes. Eating meals out or bringing in take-home doesn’t really change the task much – it’s just the number that varies, not the necessity of doing the work.

Having a dishwasher helps, especially when company comes for a meal or a weekend of meals. Still, there are pots, pans, and delicate glasses that must be done by hand. There are also the other tasks that fall under the “doing the dishes” heading: clearing the table, putting away various condiments and leftovers, wiping down the stove and cupboards, and cleaning out the sink.

Making the daily bread and cleaning up afterward takes time and a willingness to see in the repetitive nature of it all an opportunity for contemplation – or at least the ability to value the result. Because there’s something about a clean sink and a cupboard of dishes ready for the next meal that’s a doorway to something important. Perhaps that’s why doing the dishes before bed ranks up there with making the bed each morning for beginning each day with a sense of peace, order, and hope.

Lord of all pots and pans and things…Make me a saint by getting meals and washing up the plates!

Brother Lawrence