How to wash dishes and live authentically in the moment
Until reading “The Miracle of Mindfulness” by Thich Nhat Hanh (or Thay), the revered Zen master, I hated washing dishes.
It was a chore, a complete waste of time — another thing I had to do before going to bed in order to enjoy my coffee in the morning.
So I would multitask. I would talk on the phone, listen to podcasts, or think about my to-do list.
I would wash dishes without washing dishes.
Then Thay came along.
In his book, he describes the period he was a novice at Tu Hieu Pagoda. His task was to wash the dishes of 100 monks with ashes and coconut husks.
How did he manage to do that?
How a Zen master washes dishes
The secret was that Thich Nhat Hanh connected with the moment. He was present.
He turned a chore into a meditative practice. He realized that he could resist or connect.
And he connected transforming the experience:
The fact that I am standing there and washing these bowls is a wondrous reality. I’m being completely myself, following my breath, conscious of my presence, and conscious of my thoughts and actions. There’s no way I can be tossed around mindlessly like a bottle slapped here and there on the waves.
Are chores just chores?
I followed in Thay’s footsteps. I tried to feel the porcelain in my hands, pay attention to the temperature of the water, and marvel at how plates shriek when they are cleaned.
Honestly, that was the first time I truly washed the dishes.
And I felt alive doing it.
This made me wonder.
Aren’t we alive when we do mundane things like waiting in line at the supermarket? Aren’t we alive when we are scrubbing toilets, doing the laundry, ironing, cleaning the stove top or the windows, moping, or grocery shopping?
I mean “yes” we are alive but we are not present in the moment.
We escape the moment. We want to get over with the moment.
So the minutes or hours we do mundane things are lost in time.
There is no mind-body connection.
We live in our heads, thinking about the past or the future while glancing at screens.
We miss paying attention to people’s faces in the supermarket line or marveling at the colors of fruits while grocery shopping.
We don’t think of clean windows as a metaphor for clarity. We don’t scrub the toilets with the intention of a clean slate. We don’t iron the wrinkles out of our clothes as if we are ironing the wrinkles from our faces or hearts.
What a missed opportunity.
After reading Thay’s book, I learned to enjoy washing dishes. I’m grateful that I have warm water and dish soap. I’m happy that my knuckles don’t hurt and that my senses are intact.
I love the sound of clean plates, and I love seeing sparkling glass (I still have an issue with cleaning forks and knives, but I will fix it.)
My overstimulated brain gets a break.
How to wash dishes mindfully
These are Thay’s instructions:
Wash the dishes relaxingly, as though each bowl is an object of contemplation. Consider each bowl as sacred. Follow your breath to prevent your mind from straying. Do not try to hurry to get the job over with. Consider washing the dishes the most important thing in life.
And this is how a Zen master transforms a mundane experience into existential magic.
