The moments I find myself admiring and falling a little in love with Jorge are quite peculiar: when I see him absorbed in a daily task like washing the dishes.
Curious, I thought I’d write about it to unravel the mystery a bit. But I can hardly write about it feeling as I am, so touched by what occurs in these moments.
My gaze rests on him as he moves through the actions of the task. I see a man comfortable in his body and his posture as he cleans, wipes, arranges and continues workings. He is clearly where he is happy to be. Nothing else on his mind. The space around him even seems light-filled in some cheering way. He is capable. The process is clear. He is involved with just the sweetest touch of enthusiasm. He clearly takes some pride in his natural skill.
He seems buoyed by the self evident reward that making a space orderly and more beautiful brings to one’s life.
I am married for many years. Our love-life waxes and wanes. Wanes mostly when he brings irritation and pressure to our intimacy. But in these moments, where he is absorbed at at ease, I desperately want to take him. I want to step into his groove and keep it flowing. The lightness in his being draws me to him. There is an unconscious desire of wanting the same quality of attention he pours upon those dishes. I want to partake in this transportation into Self. Calm and centred as he is.
I stay silent and return to my own task. Aware that I tend to oscillate between irritation and pressure when relating to my own responsibilities. But this moment has gifted sun, soil and water to a pretty little seed in my heart that is budding up to flower.