The Only Thing I Can Control is Laundry

The last few years have been a real journey for me – from therapy and NLP to new friends and new places, yoga and meditation. I’ve learnt so much, and yet really it all comes down to acceptance – and control. Accepting the things I don’t like about myself and others, learning that everything comes and goes – regardless of my desires. That even the things I think are in my control generally are not.

And now with a four-month-old baby, it seems to be the perfect time to put that understanding into practice. To really be in the moment, release my minute-to-minute desires, surrender to the timeless flow of breastfeeding. To realize how little I really know.

And that’s why I love doing the laundry. Very non-feminist of me, I know – but seriously that shit does what I say. If I program the machine to finish at 8am, it complies. I can take out all my OCD tendencies on putting the socks on one side of the line, the baby clothes on the other, and of course separating sheets and towels (despite my darling husband’s efforts to the contrary). I can fold it all neatly and it never fights back.

And best of all – it’s never-ending. Lucky me.