Washing dishes can hardly be described as an especially inspiring activity, but sometimes during such mundane activities a meaningful thought or two pops up. So, what do you think about when you are washing dishes? A couple of mornings ago waking in the first morning light of the chilly winter morning, there was pain. Cold tiles on the floor chilled the bones of bare feet walking through the frigid dark kitchen.
A pair of stiff, swollen hands welcomed an excuse to soak in warm sudsy water and bubbles filling the kitchen sink. Meanwhile, my cloudy morning brain struggled to connect. Painful wet hands drew my attention to thoughts of personally disabling aspects of lupus.
These were not exactly the most upbeat morning thoughts!
Hands slipping into warm dish water almost seemed therapeutic, but the pressure of twisting a wet dishcloth inside a glass brought a painful wince. Next, trying in vain to grasp and remove the lids from a coffee mug and thermos, after several tries, quivering tendons and stinging knuckles announced it was just time to give up! With futile efforts abandoned, the stubborn cup and thermos would just have to sit there beside the sink all day, waiting to be opened by the male culprit to come home who had tightened them so firmly the previous morning.
Disjointed thoughts formed into a series of silly word plays, tossed around during the simple kitchen chore. Inspired without any clear reason by a glass, dishwater and lupus arthritis, these words scampered around as disjointed musings:
Glass half full or perhaps half empty,
How to be a victor not a victim?
Disability, dis-ability, dish water, dish-ability,
No! This-ability, THIS ability!
Think instead about ability!
Now, there was a better noteworthy thought!
Even though many activities are painful for those of us with lupus arthritis, there are many activities that are nearly or completely unaffected by it. These are what we should focus on and be thankful for. The thought about half full and half empty glasses, and a silly dishwashing soliloquy had triggered an unexpected New Year’s resolution of sorts.
This year should victoriously focus on being thankful for “this” ability and “that” ability that I have, instead of giving the negative aspects of Lupus any undue attention. Perhaps we should be intentionally thankful while thinking of all the verbs (ACTION words) that describe many remaining abilities, such as:
And yes, even washing dishes!
What are yours? What positive actions would you add to your list?
It is resolved, then! This is the year of this, that and every ability we have!
We can choose to celebrate the abilities we have, while striving to accept and minimize our disabilities with poise and grace.
[Note: Paragraph two was edited after posting to correct the grossly disjointed sentence about a cloudy brain, written by a cloudy brain!]