Welcome to my blog. I love building blanket forts and finding other ways to celebrate ordinary moments of life.  

Wiping the counters

Wiping the counters

Before work this morning as I

wiped down the kitchen counters

from breakfast,

I noticed the most beautiful thing. 


We were out of cider, so the girls

strayed from their traditional morning

beverage-chai cider and instead

had a pomegranate green tea (with more sugar than I would like to admit). 


While removing her tea bag,

one of the girls had dribbled tea down the side

of the mug, and left a couple of splashes

on the white quartz counter. 


As the tea ran down the mug,

the mug she uses every morning, a bit pooled

at the base. 


After the kids finished eating,


after we did our devotional,


after socks were put on,


after backpacks were packed,


the kids left for the day. 


In the silence that followed, I began

the ceremonial routine of using

lavender scented spray to wipe down

the counters. 


It was in this silence that I noticed

the amazing purple, red, pink

piece of art that was disguised as a stain. 


The circle from the base of the mug

was visible and spreading out from that

I could see how the tea had splashed

and travelled. 


The quiet was shattered by vibrant colors.

Bringing a smile to my face.

I replayed moments from the morning:

conversations over breakfast,

how the boy sang loud,

and the girls sipped tea,

how the music played softly in the background,

sometimes to be heard and sometimes not over the morning noise on a school day. 


I spend a lot of time wiping down

the large white island in our kitchen. 


Several times a day I carry out

the sacred act of spraying,

wiping with a damp knitted washcloth,

and drying until it shines.


I always feel a sense of satisfaction

upon completion, the beauty of

the shining surface reflecting back at me. 


But this morning was the first time I

had stopped to savor the stain,

to revel in the mess,

to recall the moment that the counter ceased being clean.  


I was surprised to realize that I

treasured the mess as much as I did

the clean. 


In the process of making the mess that morning,

we had loved.   


That richly colored stain was painted

with the vibrant colors of our morning. 


Now when I begin the process of wiping down

the kitchen island, I pause and look,

I notice the small splashes

of cider or the tiny bead of honey-

because in those drips I see

ordinary moments,

I see the small bursts of beauty that illuminate our lives. 


-September, 2016

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