Daily Labor

Today I mopped the dining room floor.

Swept and washed up the detritus from many meals.

From this mornings oatmeal and last weeks tomato sauce.

The sticky patch from the tipped over ant bait was especially satisfying to mop through.

I do paid work part time.

It is good, beautiful work. Writing. Deep listening.

It is also mostly private work between me and a couple or a grieving person or 

a various asundry of spiritual explorers.

And then there is all the unpaid labor that is motherhood.

And all the unpaid labor that is being at home part time too.

Laundry.

Food.

Cleaning.

When I shifted to paid work, Sean was intententional and consistent: "It is not your job to cook and clean." 

I feel good.

I feel that this is true.

But now that we have 4 kids.

It seems that we never get our heads above water.

And because there is a virus floating about the community I try not to do extra uneccesary visits to anywhere.

So I am at home more.

And, we feel good when things are a bit more picked up.

We just do.

So today I mopped.

Last week I made sure all the beds had clean sheets.

Next week I will clean all the bathrooms.

On my best days I offer this as a prayer, a gift, monastic work for my monastary.

Other days I feel the deep wound of being invisible start to ache a bit.

But alas, the floors are clean.

And tonight is movie night, where we shall sit in front of the TV leave our crumbs on the carpet waiting to be vacuumed sometime next week.