Just took some family member's laundry out of the dryer and folded it, moved their wet load from the washing machine, and loaded the washing machine with my own stuff.
When I was younger, I would have just *hated* that. As I furiously threw their dry clothes in a big heap, I'd mutter about responsibility, and fairness, and all kinda self-righteous rationalizations would be flowing through my head.
Now, when I find that situation, I'm pleased. It's meditative. It's unimportant. It becomes a tiny gift to the person who left the laundry. I think about how good *I* feel when I come find my laundry's been moved and dried and folded.
When it happens to me, I'm always like, "Awwww, how sweet!"
