There are many, many things on this earth from which I find my joy. I wouldn't know where to begin my list, because it is ever changing, and growing. Usually, though, it has to do with creating something. Music, art, writing, those have been the mainstays throughout my entire life. As I child, I was determined to be a Broadway star, and spent most of my weekends in a performing arts program at a local college. I played piano for a few years, and picked up guitar in my late teens, even though I never got anywhere good at it, I took enough lessons so that I could write a few songs, and jam along with local musicians. In my early twenties, and while I was married, I started getting crafty with projects around the house, which led to getting crafty with making jewelry. I'd always had an affinity towards writing, but that was something that I did privately, until recently. These are all things that no matter where I am in my life, they have followed.
As I've gotten older, and gotten to know myself, I've found the littlest things bring me joy. Laundry is one of them. I know. Most people cringe at the thought of having to do laundry, but for me, it is pure happiness. It doesn't matter what kind of laundry either. Sheets, socks, kitchen towels, everyday clothes, it doesn't matter. I love doing laundry. I love everything about it. I love turning everything right side out. Dividing into darks, whites, and lights. Loading the washing machine, pouring in the detergent, listening to the click, click, click, as I turn the dial to the right setting. I love the way it sounds as the washing machine does it's magic, and runs through it's cycles. And I love the buzz, no matter how many times it scares me, to tell me it's done. That's not even my favorite part! Nor is taking the wet clothes out of the washer and loading them in the dryer, although there is a strange thrill in that, too. My favorite part of doing laundry, is folding it.
I can't even put my finger on what it is I love so much about folding laundry. It's the whole experience. The fresh scent of warm fabric fresh from the dryer? Heaven. Separating the smaller articles of clothing from the sheets and towels? Amazing. Lining up each seam, each corner, each cuff? Nearly orgasmic. I have perfected folding sheets, fitted and flat, so that when I am finished they are exactly the same size squares. My shirts, pants, socks, you name it, when I am finished, they are perfectly stacked, lined up, and ready to be put away. Ok. I admit. It's slightly compulsive. But in such a good way!
One would think that doing laundry is the farthest thing from the music, art, and writing that have filled my life with so much joy. But actually, it fits right in. There is music from the washer and dryer as they spin and toss and buzz. The art is in the perfect lines and creases, and stacks of freshly folded clothes. (Occasionally I go a little overboard, and arrange them by color) And the writing? Well, here we are. I don't know too many people who equate doing laundry with creativity, or joy, or even love. But that's exactly what it is for me. I feel the same burst of happiness from folding a pair of socks, as I do belting out a song, or creating a necklace, or writing a blog. It all ends with a sense of accomplishment, and pride.