The New, Pink, Dishwashing Gloves

I smile, slipping on new, pink dish washing gloves as every part of my body feels relief. They keep my hands from getting rough because of our dry, dusty heat and my hand-washing of the dishes.

But not all protection is as simple as eight pairs of rubber gloves in storage.

I am driving on a narrow, country road with stony depressions in old asphalt. Motorcycle drivers don’t always sound their horns. Some car drivers hold to the middle of the road causing me to move to the side against thorn bushes that scratch my car. Water buffalo, cows, and goats plod and scamper, filling the driving space. I downshift frequently and sometimes just stop for the animals to mill by.

Suddenly, where the road edge drops sharply, my car has caught a tire. It tilts up, dangerously threatening to roll over onto its roof as I’m frantically trying to figure this out. Of course, this hasn’t happened, except in my mind.

I reached a time when I said I had to do something about mental “chaos.” So I began experimenting with different groups of words I could repeat to keep my mind in better focus with resulting calm. The choices were all words of spirit, or peace, or the name of God until I found my favorite eleven that I have with moderate success been repeating since, and not only while driving but anytime my ego-mind starts another story.

My realization is, “I am a soul in reality. Learning may come in negative ways, as well as positive.”