washing dishes

A woman I admire,
whose wisdom runs deep,
said she greets each dawn
with prayers of gratitude.
My heart heard
and hummed an old hymn,
though I remembered
only one verse:
“For the beauty of the earth,
for the beauty of the sky . . .”
And now, like a fresh spring,
this prayer of thanks bubbles up
to meet me every morning
when I wake.
Then, last week,
a second verse surfaced:
“For the beauty of each hour
of the day and of the night . . .”
It danced in my daydreams,
nudged me at noon,
twined around me at twilight:
“the beauty of each hour.”
Each hour.
Each.
Hour.
It was a whispered invitation to ask,
Where is the beauty in this hour,
this hour right here, right now?
A window opened in my soul,
welcomed me to watch dawn drift in,
to savor the first bite of blueberries,
to look up from washing dishes,
feel silky suds slide slowly off my hands,
smell lavender-clean dish soap.
It challenged me to pause
once in a while during each day
and ask,
What is the beauty of this hour?
And the next.
And the next.
Which opens the door
to the beauty of this day,
this week,
this month,
this year,
hour after hour of finding beauty
until a simple morning prayer of thanks
turns into a lifetime of gratitude.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

If you want me to send these thoughts to your email each Sunday, simply sign up on the right.

Basil and marigolds
are starting to droop in their pots
and I really should water them,
but there’s a cat on my lap,
curled up and cozy,
so I watch twilight
paint the sky lavender
and darken to purple.
I need to change the air filter
in my refrigerator.
I have the replacement out
on the counter,
ready to go,
but there’s a cat in my lap,
eyes closed, breathing softly,
so I watch the lights come on
in the neighbors’ windows,
squares of warm gold,
friendly islands
in the deepening darkness.
I thought I might read
as I sit here rocking,
or answer some emails,
but my hands are folded under
a cat in my lap,
so I notice the white that perfectly outlines
her gray-brown ears.
I really need to wash the dishes
and take out the trash.
Feel free to tell me so,
but, you see,
there’s a cat in my lap,
and I am grateful,
for she is old,
she is faithful,
she is even now teaching me
to rest,
to wait,
to see all that would have gone unnoticed
if she had not settled down in my lap.
So the basil and marigolds can wait,
and the refrigerator filter, too.
I can read and answer emails later,
and the dishes aren’t going anywhere.
There’s a cat in my lap,
so I take the hint,
settle in,
close my eyes,
and breathe softly,
purrfectly content.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

If you want me to send these thoughts to your email each Sunday, simply sign up on the right.

Carry the Calm

Karyn Henley

The Surprise of a Simple Morning Prayer

There’s a Cat in My Lap