Portals to Presence

I used to see cleaning as life's permanent background noise. An endless loop of wiping counters, washing dishes, and sweeping floors. "Another mess to clean," I'd sigh when I lived in Vancouver with two friends on a studio apartment. We were young and wild. Watching crumbs multiply on the kitchen counter like uninvited guests. The dishes would pile up, each one a tiny monument to the relentless nature of household chores.

But maturity and my experience running a restaurant taught me. And I've been playing with a different story since. What if these daily acts of cleaning weren't interruptions to my life, but rather quiet moments of contemplation?