Coldplay in the Kitchen

The one thing I didn't mention about yesterday was that a lot of my old friends came by the house for dinner. It was a great time of fellowship and storytelling. Of course, I insisted on cooking. This recipe I found for beef and chickpea stew has been a big hit each time I cook it. Really, the stew should be called the beef and augerbine (or eggplant in my case) stew, because there's definitely more eggplant in it than anything else.

I doubt my joy in experience that followed dinner can be conveyed to anyone outside of my own shoes. However, my musings began when all of my guests had left. I guess I could have asked them to help with the dishes, but many of them only offered as they were halfway out the door in order to seem polite. I hold no grudge against them. There were a lot of people, and very little space. I'm surprised the old floors of our house even supported us.

So low and behold, I found myself in the kitchen immediately upon saying, "Goodbye," to my final guest. Unfortunately for the rest of my evening, and the dismay of my very soar feet, the quantity of dishes that were left in my possession to clean was prodigious. And my house only has a one-basin sink for all kitchen purposes, including dish washing. However, cleaning was not as bad of an experience os one might suspect.

While I was doing the dishes, Coldplay's Glass of Water, popped into my head. It's probably not a normal experience for most people, but I listen to music a lot in my head when I'm not thinking about something. And considering how often I find myself in thought, that little brain jukebox is usally muted. But contemplation requires more attention than can be allotted when dishes are eclipsing the ceiling light. So I soon found myself thinking through almost an entire album by Coldplay. And I don't really even know why it was Coldplay that my subconscious chose.

It just was. And it was wonderful

I mean, how often do we actually practice such things as silence, or even silence of the mind. I know that so often, my mind is more like an over-motivated mouth than a brain. But to be so silent, and yet so content, that one finds himself lightheartedly dancing to the music in his head. That is an experience that can only occur a few times in life. All though I do hope it happens more.