As a kid, chores were, well, a chore. My responsibilities entailed washing dishes, doing my laundry, cleaning the bathroom, and dusting. I didn’t mind them (dishes least of all because it involved plugging in my headphones and singing along to my favorite anime theme songs, much to my family’s chagrin). But I never looked at them as more than just things that needed to be done.
When I got older, they became daily annoyances. Laundry needed to be done, groceries needed to be picked up, dishes needed to be cleaned, bed made, floors wiped, rooms vacuumed, trash compost recycling taken out. And on and on.
They were a chore, an intrusion on my life… but they also got me away from the endless scroll of social media, flooded inboxes, and any other demanding application on the screen. They pulled my mind into the physical world, to the present, to simplicity—all things I struggle to hold onto in the modern world. All things that are critical to my peace of mind.
In that light, chores became a healing ritual, a commitment toward maintaining calm and harmony with my environment. When I make the bed, I’m choosing rest. When I pick up groceries, I’m choosing nourishment. When I vacuum, I’m choosing clarity. When I do laundry, I’m choosing renewal.
And on and on.