I remember my first bath that my mom allowed me to take myself. The feeling was great, but the pressure was great as well. I had to remember those places that dirt hid, like behind my ears. I knew that I was in there longer than any bath my mom gave me, but I wanted her to be proud and happy that she trusted me to be in that bath tub unsupervised.
Most of us take showers now because a bath just doesn’t cut it in the world today that runs at break neck speed. Having said that the shower still is not my meditation room, it’s one dimensional- get clean! Now how could anyone use it for a different reason? Get in get out!
Flash forward 50 years; It’s late in the baseball season; we’re watching the World Series. . The Yanks are going for World Series #27. It’s a thin wall next to my perch as I hear the shower start up. 10-20-30-40 minutes later the water is still running. I turn to my wife and ask “what’s he doing washing a car in there?” For the life of me I can’t figure it out. I am in a slow burn, but how big a deal can I make of this? It’s not like I want to get into a power driven argument. It’s only water. What am I really, a conservationist? I couldn’t even complain about having a cesspool we had sewers. I’ll think of something. All I ended up with was resenting him and the only one it cost was me.
When I think about my stepson staying in the shower for an hour (this is an exaggeration maybe it was only 50 minutes.) I can easily build my story of resentment. I remember now that his being in the shower was right and true for him. It was not an act of defiance. My story is that he is wasting water and trying to piss me off. But I wrote that story. He thinks he is getting clean and spending time recuperating from the challenges of his day. Although at the time I couldn't see it that way.
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