I'm returning to the kitchen sink. Every night I return to the kitchen sink. There are similar pans present, with similarly encrusted food. There is usually a napkin in one of the bowls. There are bits of food on the countertop. The lighting is so-so. The coffee pot needs cleaning.
A friend of mine said that during COVID, "Every day is the same - so we can make the perfect day."
Again and again, I return to the sink. I try to make the sink-work more meaningful by focusing and practicing working meditation. I focus on my movements and try to find a half-second here and there by being efficient. I try using music. But it is still the sink.
Sometimes it is uplifting, and sometimes it depresses me.
But all this is the best it can be. It is a repetition. I don't look back, I don't look forward. I am familiar with what I am doing. Repeat.
"... repetition is a beloved wife of whom one never wearies, for one becomes weary only of what is new." (Kierkegaard)