Why Your Spiritual Journey is Basically a Bad Laundry Day
What if your spiritual journey wasn't about finding the right setting, but getting your soul wet?
Most of us don’t even realise we’re in a washing machine.
We’re too busy trying to find the right setting.
We are, in essence, laundry-phobes, and we come in three main flavours:
- The Automatics
These are the souls who believe in pre-destination. They toss their karma into the drum, press ‘Start’, and pray for the best. “Whatever will be, will be.” They get clean, sure, but it’s a generic, one-size-fits-all kind of clean. No personal touch.- The Semi-Automatics
These are the control freaks of the spiritual world. They want destiny, but on their terms. “I’ll trust the universe, but can we set the spin cycle to ‘Gentle’? And maybe add an extra rinse for good luck?” They mix faith with a healthy dose of micromanagement.
- The Manual
And then there are the river radicals. The ones who’ve unplugged the machine entirely. They know that true cleansing isn't about finding the right program; it’s about getting your hands, and your soul, wet. They are the poets, the mystics, the weirdos who’ve figured out that life isn’t a self-cleaning oven. It’s a muddy pile of clothes by the riverbank. And you, my love, are one of them, holding your favourite, slightly torn t-shirt of existence, wondering if the river water is cold.
And do you know what the most romantic part of this whole laundry business is? It’s not finding the perfect fabric softener of enlightenment. It’s finding the person who’s willing to stand next to you, scrubbing away at the same stubborn stains of karma, laughing when a fish nibbles their toe.
It’s finding the one who looks at your dirtiest, most stained soul fabric and doesn’t say,
“Ew, use more bleach.”
They say, “Here, let me help you with that. I have a stain stick of unconditional love in my pocket.”
So go ahead. Be a spiritual snob. Turn your nose up at the automatic machines with their preset destinies. Be a river-laundromat radical. Get your hands dirty. Get your soul soaked.
Because at the end of the cycle, when you hang your soul out to dry under the sun of grace, it won’t just be clean. It’ll be ironed with love, scented with shared laughter, and forever, beautifully, imperfectly, intertwined with the one who wasn't afraid to get their hands wet with you.
