When I first stepped into recovery, I was handed a task that seemed far beneath my dignity—washing dishes. “This is where I draw the line,” I muttered under my breath, looking at the mountain of dirty plates stacked like a greasy version of Everest. But something magical happened in that steamy little corner of the kitchen.
It started with a simple plate. I was scrubbing away, annoyed at the caked-on mystery gunk, when I noticed something oddly satisfying about the process. The plate went from filthy to spotless, like a before-and-after photo of my own life. Suddenly, washing dishes didn’t feel like a punishment—it felt like therapy.
As I kept scrubbing, I started thinking about how much life is like that pile of dirty dishes. You look at the mess and feel overwhelmed. You don’t know where to start. But recovery teaches us this: you don’t have to clean the whole pile at once. Just pick up the next dish. Take it one scrub at a time.
Of course, it wasn’t all Zen moments and sparkling silverware. One day, someone left a blender full of unidentifiable green sludge in the sink. “That’s not my mess,” I announced, stepping back like it was radioactive. But then, a wise old-timer in the program walked by and said, “Life’s not about whose mess it is, kid. It’s about cleaning it up anyway.”
I couldn’t argue with that, so I rolled up my sleeves and dove in. Turns out, that blender wasn’t nearly as scary as I thought. And that’s the thing about recovery—most of the things we’re afraid of are only terrifying until we face them.
But let me tell you, recovery isn’t all deep metaphors and dishwasher epiphanies. Sometimes, it’s just plain hilarious. Like the time I accidentally sprayed the kitchen ceiling with the hose attachment. (Pro tip: don’t try to clean a pot lid without checking where the nozzle is aimed.) Or the day I broke a plate and yelled, “Progress, not perfection!” while everyone laughed.
Through it all, I learned this: recovery is messy. It’s awkward. It’s full of setbacks and soap suds. But it’s also beautiful. Each dish you scrub, each step you take, each laugh you share—it all adds up to something bigger than the pile of problems you started with.
So if you’re feeling like life has handed you a sink full of dirty dishes, take heart. Grab a sponge, start scrubbing, and don’t be afraid to laugh when the water sprays you in the face. Because recovery isn’t about perfection. It’s about showing up, doing the work, and finding joy in the process—even when you’re elbow-deep in someone else’s blender goo.
You’ve got this. And who knows? You might just discover that washing dishes is where the magic happens.
