I enjoy washing dishes. Not all the time and not for everyone, but at home, it’s satisfying, like an act of meditation.
I didn’t always feel this way. Definitely not in college when I lived in a house with nine other people and shared a kitchen.
I actually think I know when it changed too. About thirteen years ago we were on a group snowboard trip to Park City. After our typical gigantic, carby, heavy dinner Wilbur volunteered to wash the dishes. Huh?
“I like washing dishes”
“Yeah, it’s calming.”
That made Wilbur one of the coolest people I know. Or, because Wilbur is one of the coolest people I know, I wanted to like washing dishes too. It was that simple– from then on dishes weren’t so bad, not even the annoying utensils that I used to leave to the last. My life was changed.
Attitude really determines experience.
Years later it grew to the next level. My wife and I were talking about The Five Love Languages. Because she values acts of service she told me one of the many things she appreciated was when I washed the dishes. So now when I see our sink piled full of greasy dishes, I see a chance to show her how I love her.
Sometimes when I’m at the sink, she’ll come by and give me a quick hug around the waist from behind with a little smile. (and then hand me another mug that needs washing.) Doing this small chore for her really is my pleasure.
So in short, my wife and I thank you, Wilbur!