essential mundane

i have mentioned the mundane keeps me tethered to this realm. the underworld business is what i was troubled over some time ago. i've come to understand from bly a wonderful metaphor for the underworld, which typically makes one think of all things evil and slimey. or gnashing of teeth and weeping, which is about the same in my book.

bly writes:

a willingness to be a fish in the holy water, to be fished for by Dionysus or one of the other fishermen, to bow the head and take hints from one's own dreams, to live a secret life, praying in a closet, to be lowly, to eat grief as the fish gulps water and lives. It means being both fisherman and fish, not to be the wound but to take hold of the wound. Being a fish is to be active; not with cars or footballs, but with soul.

as i understand it, bly relates fishing to "waking dreams" when one is actively trying to draw something mysterious from below, from the unseen unknown realm, the place where God dwells.

i'm revisiting some recovery literature i read in the years of my intense healing because i've forgotten many of the principles i once learned then. i'm in need of a soul tune-up i guess you could say. these authors spoke to me many years ago about the essential mundane (my paraphrase of their collective genius).

each act can be holy. each task we are called to fulfill throughout our day can be an act of worship. and in many ways, it is. whether we acknoledge it or not. are you worshipping materialism? status? God? or something else? everything we do is an act of worship. i heard a pastor once say there is no stasis in life (my paraphrase), you are either moving toward or away from God. (scary thought, isn't it?)

so, yesterday being mother's day. i had the same idea as at least a few women i know to do absolutely nothing and not cook, not wash dishes, not be domestic in the least. very catlike, i am at times.

but the dishes were piled high and crusty. in this new apt we have no room for anything, not an extra set of dishes, so if i don't wash them, we break out the fine papier, but that was not to be the solution. as i finally resigned myself to washing the mountain of dishes in the kitchen on mother's day.

the tape i was listening to reminded me:

don't keep score.

don't live life like it is an emergency.

look for the best in life and you're sure to find it (conversely, look for the worse and badabing, you'll find that!).

so the good doctor reminded me i'm looking for the wrong things. i'm seeing the piles of dishes not as a sign of abundant blessing, a healthy family who has food, a meal had recently taken place and we are well, together, so many blessings i can't even chronicle them.

today i ascend and descend four flights of stairs to do the laundry. for the next few hours i will be on my archaic stairmaster, but i will find the divine in the mundane today because i am setting my mind to that task.

look for it, you'll find it.