Tell me what dinner tasted like on Tuesday.
Not what it was. You can probably reconstruct that. What it tasted like.
Nothing comes back. It went in standing up, at the counter, over the sink, phone in the other hand, in about four minutes, and it did the job it was there to do.
That isn't a discipline problem, and nobody here is going to lecture you about sitting down as a family.
Look at what actually happened. When the tank runs low, the whole day converts to logistics. Food becomes fuel. The drive becomes transit. The shower becomes maintenance. It's an efficient system, and it works, which is exactly why you've run it for years without noticing.
Taste is the first thing cut, because taste is the only part of eating that isn't strictly necessary. A person can be fed without it. So it went, the way everything goes that doesn't survive a triage.
The sink is not the problem. The sink is the reading.
Something in you has been operating at the level where only necessary things get through, and it's been running that way long enough that you stopped noticing which parts went quiet.
The one thing for the weekend:
One thing you eat this weekend, notice what it tastes like. Not for your health. Just to find out whether that part still works.
Josh
P.S. I finished my 30-day Ash Journal run on July 30. In public, one page a day, no edits, all thirty.
Five minutes. One prompt. One line of ash. The first seven days are free: truevitalyou.com/journal