Monday, October 1, 2012

day 1


i sink

     from the kitchen sink a massive amount of overwhelming thoughts all collide in a 2x2 space. feet planted, hip twisting and body bending. suds foaming, water running, fingers wiping, i'm rinsing, i'm re-loading. always repeating morning, noon, and evening. everything is moving. my mental to-do list rising with the sun as i meet my sink at first light. still in my pj's, hair flipped into a bushy bun, the list grows ... dishes, sweep, scrub, pick up, pack, dress, change, throw away, gather, replace, shoes, keys, snacks, car, call, return, remember, reflect, don’t neglect, text, check locks, get checks, lip gloss, count children, close door. from my farmhouse kitchen sink i think about so much. i gather so much of me there.  so much of me that i want to run from. i feel the frustration of not having accomplished enough, i see the endless counters to wipe down and desk overflowing with stuff. all my issues seem to rise with the water filling our cast iron pot now crusted with last nights meal, thoughts and fears bubbling over. and the mess never seems to settle... clean back splash, take out trash, did i say too much, did i say too little, i shouldn’t have sent that email, why am i so annoyed, what if she never replies, kill the ants, why do i still care, shake out the rug, did they even notice i wasn’t there?  from my kitchen sink i am forced to stay, forced to feel, and find myself in all my messiness. and recently the stirring of my inadequacies have chased me and i am taunted by all the things i am not.  i chase down my faults trying to fix them, my mind dizzy with so many places that need mending.
     and at my sink when i so often fantasize about achieving, i suddenly stop, shaking hands free of suds, i look out to see what always makes my soul stop spinning, mountains. massive mountains stories high above the city they stand secure in complete strength with their splendid curves. and my soul hears, “i lift my eyes up to the mountains, where does my help come from? my help comes from you, maker of heaven, creator of the earth.” exhale. and i can stop fighting my insecurities and neurotic need to fix myself and everything fractured around me, everything in me. i stand behind my sink and stare into my surroundings, mountains whispering reminders of salvation. i sink, not to be swallowed, but saved.
to read all 31 days of my kitchen sink thoughts: click here

3 comments:

Charissa said...

YES! perfect.

Jerimi said...

"i gather so much of me there."

Pure poetry. Thank you for sharing.

Jessica Griz said...

I love this. I will be reading.