Achieved — Laundry
We didn’t use the dryer growing up — we hung our clothes to line dry despite the seasons. We hung our clothing indoors by casting a line across the garage to ward off the winter chills, we hung our clothes in the backyard across the fence when the sun graced us with its warmth. Laundry was a tiresome chore that my mind could not grasp. It never ended, clothes soiled so fast, and it was a chore with little to no pleasure. There was shame in hanging feminine undergarments' in the yard worried a neighbor may see, worried someone in my family may judge the color I selected. The weight of shame imprinted by cultural and societal expectations of what laundry is and what women should hide. Laundry was a battle of the sexes, the mind, and the actuality of the chore itself.
My inspiration for this poem came from an open Q&A held on Instagram where a follower prompted me to create a piece on laundry. Initially, I figured this would be a silly write for me to dabble in. I wanted to take a creative spin on laundry. Somewhere sitting down and writing I found my true feelings and reflection on the practice. The manner of personifying clothing in correlation with the self — viewing sin, actions, and dreams in unison with the clothes draped on the line in the sun which sway effortlessly in the wind. Did Thich Nhact Hanh finally resonate with me? Was I seeing the deeper underlying truth in the everyday? Was this the point where I sat to mindfully take on life?
Budding thoughts from a weary pen ~
