A Prayer for Washing Dishes

I pause at the sink

Looking around at the dishes to load

the clean ones to unload

and the pan to scrub.

I pause.

Because in this moment,

this exact moment,

no one needs me.

No one calls for me.

I am mine.

My thoughts scatter and tatter 

while worries seep into my secret place

my usual patterns

pulling me away from myself—

school and medicine and IEP and 

schedule and trauma and siblings and

evaluations and paperwork and OT and

and

and

and—

in this exact moment

no one needs me.

I am mine.

A deep breath calms the swirl.

I come back to me, to my self

to my needs, for silence, for space

for precious moments, like this one, 

the very moment I am in.

A gift.

Can I stay here, accept, soak, relish?

Unwrap the gift, slowly, intentionally,

receiving the gift given?

With weary hands, 

tired from holding the weight

of too many strands—

with trembling fingers

slowly unclenching

from the holding—

I reach for the gift.

Nestled inside the present moment

the gift radiates love and gentleness.

I feel the pulse

the energy flows in waves.

I take another breath.

In this moment

this exact moment

When no one needs me

No one calls for me.

I am mine.

And I need…you.

I call for you.

I am yours.

This radical presence is your gift to me

This pulsing energy,

your commitment to show up for me,

every time I even pause

every time I take a breath

every time I release my hold

every time I calm my breath.

Every time 

I need you,

Every time

I call for you,

your promise:

I will show up for you.

I will fill you

with my radical presence

Pulsing through this creation

of mine.

And I hear you.

And I breathe.

And standing at the sink,

 I whisper back:

I am yours.