dirty dishes as analogy

I write this from the breakfast nook where I’ve likely eaten 70% of the meals in this lifetime. There’s a clamoring of dishes as my mom passes back and forth from the dishwasher to the kitchen cabinet. She places each dish in what she claims is its designated place. My dad gets up from the table, and as he walks by, says kindly, “those don’t go there, you know that.” My mom pauses, shakes her head with a tilt in her smile and continues the shuffle of glassware from counter to cupboard. As I take the last bite, scraping the fork on the ceramic dish, I begin to move toward the kitchen sink. Almost instantly, inherently, I feel obliged to clean the freshly dirtied dish. Until that moment, I was fully immersed in the experience of nourishing my body with the food I had prepared. I haven’t always been this way, but as I’ve grown older, habits have formed around keeping a tidy space and have been influenced by those around me.  When I think about how we come into contact with dirty dishes, there is a subtle proclivity to imagine how it could be a metaphor for death. One’s relationship with dirty dishes could resemble one’s relationship with death.

A dirty dish represents a myriad of things; a meal that nourishes you and satiates your hunger, a moment in time that will never be again, and a connection with life source.  A dirtied dish is more than a moment; it is a collection of moments reflected in an object with the residue of what it once held. Just as one comes into contact with dirty dishes, one might explore the concepts of death and dying. In the last six weeks, we’ve been immersed in the theories and beliefs that make up philosophies around death. Death is a peculiar thing that each person will face regardless of their beliefs, but how one comes to engage with this inevitable outcome varies across many beliefs and religions.

Buddhist beliefs do not specifically address the issue of dirty dishes, as it is a relatively mundane and practical concern. However, the teachings do emphasize the importance of mindfulness and awareness in all aspects of life, including everyday activities such as cleaning. As we’ve read The Tibetan Book of the Dead, I’ve realized how intimately this mindfulness and awareness can be applied to the time of death and dying. In Buddhist practices, even the most mundane tasks can be viewed as spiritual growth and development opportunities. The act of cleaning dirty dishes, for example, can be seen as a form of meditation, in which one focuses on the present moment and the task at hand, without being distracted by other thoughts or concerns. To bring this same awareness and presence to death, in its actuality but in the way we encounter death and dying in our lifetimes. Since beginning this program, meditating on dirty dishes is a line I continue to come back to. I get curious on what dirty dishes is a metaphor for and here I am trying on death as the metaphor.

Additionally, Buddhist teachings emphasize the importance of non-attachment and letting go of material possessions and desires. In the context of dirty dishes, this could mean letting go of any aversion or attachment to the task of cleaning them, and simply approaching it with a sense of detachment and equanimity. Whether it be you or the person you share a kitchen sink with, our attachment to how the dishes go from clean to dirty to clean again offers a chance to explore our relationship with detachment and equanimity. While Buddhist beliefs do not specifically address the issue of dirty dishes, the principles of mindfulness, non-attachment, and equanimity can be applied to all aspects of life, including mundane tasks such as cleaning, to cultivate a greater sense of presence, awareness, and spiritual growth. Just as a dirty dish is inevitable, the thread that collects the moments of our lives into a beautiful tapestry tied in a knot at the time of death, revealing the tapestry of a lifetime, is an expression of ourselves.

The Tibetan Book of the Dead is a spiritual text that guides navigating the transition between life and death, and it offers insights into the nature of existence and the mind. Considering the challenges of loss and transition that we all face in life, there are a few ways we can implement the teachings from the Tibetan Book of the Dead. For the sake of this essay, I am going to apply to my dirty dishes’ metaphor. The first, understanding the impermanence of all things. A dish was once clean, used to serve food, and once the food is consumed, the dish turns to begin anew. All things are impermanent and death, or a dirty dish, is a natural part of the life cycle. To approach life with a detachment and to focus on the present moment rather than being overly attached to the things and people in one's life or even getting lost in the weeds of how things and people in one’s life do things can offer a more harmonious way of living.

What about the tedious and constant practice of washing the dishes? Inevitably, the sink is constantly filling up with dishes. When we are able to cultivate mindfulness and awareness, we are able to be more present in each moment and to cultivate a clear and peaceful mind. If we make peace with the impermanence of a dirty dish (death), we are able to be more present with the process and this can be especially helpful in navigating the challenges of loss and transition. Another practice from Buddhism is developing compassion and love. The Tibetan Book of the Dead text encourages the development of compassion and love for all beings, as this can help one navigate life’s ups and downs with greater ease and approach others with kindness and understanding. We can pause when there are dishes placed in the wrong spot or left piled in the sink. To pause, to notice the gap, and then move forward mindfully creates space for compassion or understanding to exist here too.

As I reflect more about death and the analogy of dirty dishes, I recall a moment in time last week while I was at my sister’s house. She was standing at the kitchen sink, scrubbing bottles and sniffing them. There was a faint scent of soap in one of them that instigated her spiral to rewash and sanitize every piece of the bottle. I was holding her daughter, Wren, who had a cold and had just spit up. The vehicle for fear to manifest was the dirty dishes. My sister’s previous daughter, Imogen, had what we all thought was a simple stomach bug in the beginning of what ended up being a devastating medical mystery. The stomach bug was much more than what any of us could imagine and the fear of what was still exists and manifests through dirty dishes in this instance. My sister still carries the fear of what a stomach bug might be and fell prey to relentlessly cleaning the bottles in an effort to control her imagination. In the Tibetan Book of the Dead, letting go of attachment and fear is a lesson around death. The text encourages letting go of attachment to the material world and to one's own sense of self, as well as overcoming fear of death. This can help one approach life with a sense of openness and a greater sense of freedom. To cling to a story or an idea that lingers, a fear gone untended to, leaves us scrubbing dishes that no longer carry what we imagined they might.

In The Mystery of Death, Boros emphasizes the concept of judgment and eternal life after death, a central theme in Christian theology. According to Boros, individuals will be judged based on their choices and actions during their lifetime, and the nature of their deeds will determine their eternal destiny. Boros argues that the idea of judgment and eternal life after death provides a powerful motivation for individuals to act in morally right and just ways. I’ll tie the dirty dishes concept in here with the consideration of what happens if a dish stays dirty. Will I be worthy of the afterlife? Judgment and moral conviction in a belief impact how a person acts daily. I believe that whatever happens to your spirit after it leaves the body is a mystery to continue to wonder about throughout this lifetime. There’s a part of me that imagines we all go to heaven and exist as guardian angels; there’s a part of me that revels in the way a caterpillar crawling across the trail might be me in my next life. From the angel to the caterpillar, I believe we are all in the process or somewhere along the cycle of metamorphosis, transitioning from one being to another. I’ve more recently taken to the idea that everyone has or will be my mother, my favorite shirt to wear lately is “love your mother.”

Dirty dishes, do what you will, aren’t necessarily something we can escape. What one can attempt to escape is the reality of how they can be engaged with. Like death, there’s no escaping the reality that our end will come; what one escapes is the relationship of tending to this inevitable reality. Out of all the questions and qualms that arise from death, the one that sticks out or feels like the thorniest rose, is what happens when I die? Depending on the beliefs or religion one has, the answer varies. As I come to terms or rather develop an ongoing relationship with death, I find my body tense, I remind myself of my breath and with each inhale and exhale, soften to the reality of the fragility of life. Just as a dish is dirtied, there’s the chance it breaks. Just as a body breathes, there’s the promise that one of them will be the last. Instead of falling for the claim that we can control what will happen, what if we stood still enough to notice the dirty dishes and find an appreciation for the nourishing experience, whether it be this so-called life or simply a meal we shared?

Works Cited

Coleman, G. & Jinpa, T, eds. (2007). The Tibetan book of the dead: Liberation through hearing in the intermediate state. Penguin Classics

Boros, L. & Bourgeault, C. (2020). The mystery of death: Awakening to eternal life. Monkfish.