The dishwasher

I read an interesting quote last week:

“The way you do anything, is the way you do everything.”

On one level it seems a little harsh; we can’t be perfect all the time…

But looked at another way it’s an invitation to find meaning in the mundane.

Historically, I have sought to rush through as many daily tasks as possible. Always seeking ‘a solid roster of achievement’; hoping for pleasure in the sheer volume of tasks completed.

But there’s a good insight from endurance sports: sometimes doing something fractionally less energetically costs you little on time, but everything in energy depletion.

So, rather than rushing through packing and unpacking my old friend the dishwasher – why not savour the daily puzzle of getting as much as possible in?

Why not admire the gleam and sparkle of every item coming out, and enjoy placing them a little more carefully in their rightful place?

It turns out the cost in time is almost identical, but the cost in ‘huff and puff’ is much much less. And remarkably a routine task becomes a thing to notice and pay attention to; five minutes of being alive, not dead set on just getting it done.

It’s the same with brushing my teeth, putting away clothes and more. Taking a moment longer and doing it with a fraction more care brings more pleasure than rattling off task after task.

Maybe the dashing jockey on my screensaver is learning to enjoy the ride.

Still Life


Water Jug, Patrick Caulfield: Tate

In a slow meander of a large management meeting, I found myself contemplating a jug of water… How many colours therein? Such scintillations of light; and patches of shade.

How pure. How clean. What pipes and processes got it to this table. How rare in the history and geography of human existence to have water to hand in such pristine abundance. How much rarer – in the universe – to have the temperature and circumstances to sustain this elixir of life?

Art, origins, progress, luck and gratitude – all in a jug. And then back to tasks and voices and faces and work. But a wistful smile at the corners of my mouth perhaps betrayed I’d briefly escaped the mundane – and enjoyed a moment of wonder at the natural world. Life is in the small details sometimes.