Welcome to yoga dish!! What better way to start my blog than to dish out a very personal story inspired by dishes.

Many people these days have the luxury of a dishwasher in their home. I, however, do not and have spent the last ten years doing them by hand. Ten years ago, my partner Jason and I took the leap and joined together under one roof. Initially, our lovely 1950’s, 1000 sq foot, two bedroom, 1 bathroom home was easy to maintain. Fast forward five years to 2013, household maintenance became a full time job and plus some. We became proud parents of our son, 3 cats, and a dog. In the following five years to present day, we lost a dog, a cat but evened out with another son. Needless to say, parenthood exponentially increased the demands of maintaining a home and the dishes stacked up. It almost seemed as if the more dishes stacked up, the more my relationship with Jason was breaking down.

New to the demands of motherhood, I heeded parental magazines, friends, and blog advise to just not do the dishes. Baby comes first. The cleanliness of my house came last. I took liberty with the advise and just didn’t do the dishes for days. I’d rather nap. I’d rather shower. But most of all, I’d rather mope. Sleepless nights of breastfeeding, recovering from long 12 hour shifts in the ICU, and the overall general isolation of a mother and her infant were breaking me down. I was mentally and physically exhausted. Debilitated by depression, I hit rock bottom of a self-pity pit and barely contributed to the home. I got away with it for a while because Jason picked up the slack. He is a hands-on dad. He changes diapers. Washes dishes. Does laundry. Cleans the toilet. Cooks fabulous food. He works hard and commits 100% to his family.

One morning, I awoke to find the kitchen counter cleaned and sink empty. A feeling of relief washed over me, assuming Jason had tackled the task again. I went to throw something in the garbage, and there were all our cheap dirty dishes that had been in the sink. “What the fuck?” I paused in disbelief. I opened the cupboard for a mug and was shocked to see the shelf divided. To the left was written my partners name, to the right, mine. A cup, a plate, a bowl for Jason. A cup, a plate, a bowl for me. My heart sunk heavy and I began to sob. Beyond whose fork was whose, the division of our dishes, Jason and I had never been more deeply divided.

The stress of figuring out motherhood, working as an intensive care nurse, and keeping up a home was soul shattering at points and I spiraled in and out of depression. It hadn’t been my first dance with depression and may likely not be the last. It’s taking me all of my life to rise up and BE a positive force, and I know it will take the rest of my life to actively maintain not just the cleanliness of my house, but my mental health as well.

I’m thrilled to say I survived the poor coping skills of my 20’s which involved a lot of black out drinking, and I’ve acquired many healthy skills through the practice of mindfulness and yoga. I enjoy reading spiritual texts from Dietrich Bonhoeffer to Thich Nhat Hahn. These spiritual teachers have saved my life. My current favorite spiritual guide to read is Eknath Easwaran.

Yoga Dish is a platform I’d like to use to share the inspirational words of wisdom from literature to everyday encounters. Check out the link to Thich Nhat Hahn’s article so appropriately entitled, “Washing the dishes.” https://www.freepressjournal.in/peace-of-mind/washing-the-dishes-thich-nhat-hanh/1061067

“Each thought, each action in the sunlight of awareness becomes sacred.

In this light, no boundary exists between the sacred and the profane.

It may take a bit longer to do the dishes, but we can live fully, happily, in every moment.”

~Thich Nhat Hanh~

I may not exactly have reached enjoyment while doing the dishes, but by returning to my practice, I have moved away from resentment and closer towards gratitude. Thankful for a roof. Thankful for clean water. Thankful for food. Thankful for the kitchen sink view of tall Pecans, wild weeds, bluebirds and squirrels playing. Doing the dishes can be a spiritual practice. Maintaining my home is a spiritual practice. I serve myself by serving others. Time and time again and to this day, hour by hour even, the dishes will continue to stack up and so will I, with discipline and community support.

Our names in permanent marker in the kitchen cupboard were still visible underneath a shoddy paint job attempt to conseal our woes when the landlord came to inspect its hinges. Rather than erase the evidence of conflict, I enhanced it with a twist, “Jason loves Cyndy with all his heart 😘.” Because he does, and always has through the good times and the bad. We are getting better at this thing called parenthood and adulting everyday. What doesn’t kill us, only makes us stronger. It’s the challenges in life that are true gifts towards spiritual growth and development. How will we react to the challenges? The choice is ours.