Ironing out the resistance

Doing some ironing today, Something I very very rarely do - just that I think my AirBnB guests would appreciate wrinkle free linen. While I was ironing I had a flashback to my mum, who died recently. I remember vividly the aroma of hot cotton, and how much it reminds me of home. I actually do enjoy the satisfaction of the end results of ironing (even though my inner feminist rebels at that thought) it brings me order in the smoothing and peace in the mindfulness. Ironing must’ve been my mum’s meditation in amongst the chaos of 5 children. When I am able to see the beauty in the small simple and mundane jobs, I can connect to the enjoyment instead of feeling any resistance or resentment or seeing the tasks as a chore. When I am able to do that, I can carry out even the most unappealing tasks in my life with joy.