This afternoon, I hauled a bucket of dishes to the pond. Placed a foot each on a pond stone and squatted. Washed them, dish by dish.
Much of each evening this week, I’ve cleared the grounds of sawed logs and brush, the relatively minor debris and casualties Irene left in her wake.
The human body and the human mind crave physical work of ordinary demand. The body and mind hunger for meaningful, moving rhythm.
I don’t care to make a living hammering and hauling, lifting and lugging. But I do care to shape this one life by more such meaningful work of the back and hands and fingers (what the Greeks called the “midwives of creativity,” those ten digits).
For a moment, I fantasized about not using the dishwasher at all once the power returns, at least until it gets frigid outdoors. Just gather the dishes each evening, I thought, and listen to the swoop of pond water wash over them. And then I knew better. My romanticism would fade within a week.
Still, for now, this week at least, there is something oddly gratifying about cleaning up the debris and hand washing dishes and hauling buckets of water up the house. Who knows? With the topsy-turvy nature of the next two or so years, these small physical acts sans electricity might not be just a one-week romance.
How about you? Any pleasurable physical engagement with the simple things today or this week? Share your Friday’s three highlights – and let us know where you’re writing from.
See you in the woods,
The Three Highlights Guy