I’ll admit it, I don’t like doing chores. Some chores – such as cleaning the toilet or doing the laundry – are okay, but I have a particular aversion for others like doing the dishes, vacuuming or cleaning my room. This aversion usually leads to my apartment being in a sub-optimum state and is mostly due to my mindset towards these chores: I’ve always seen them as a necessary evil; they’re boring, take effort and I would rather not do them (is the floor that messy? Surely not…). When I do end up doing chores, I usually require some sort of distraction in the form of a podcast or audiobook to get through the mundanity of it.

I’ve held this attitude for some time now, but I recently came across an article called Do What You Are Doing. The idea is that when we do anything, we should be fully immersed in whatever it is, rather than thinking about other things. The author, David, quotes a passage from a book on Speed Cleaning:

Pay attention. Almost everything else will fall into place if you do. Don’t think about revisions in the tax code. Or anything else. In Latin: Age quod agis—”Do what you are doing.”

David continues:

I take this to mean something more than just “don’t get distracted from the act of cleaning.” I interpret it as, “bring all of your concern to exactly the task you’re on now,” whether it’s wiping away soup spatters from the stovetop, or dragging the coffee table aside so you can vacuum.  

Reading this was a lightbulb moment for me. Perhaps my mindset towards chores was wrong. Perhaps I should see them as opportunities – opportunities to find contentment in the mundane, instead of seeing them as a waste of time.

And so, I tried it. When I needed to do the dishes next, I put down my headphones and reminded myself of Age quod agis—”Do what you are doing.” I proceeded to do the dishes, trying to be as fully immersed on the task as I could be. I focused on all the stains on the dishes, felt the sponge against the metal and washed every dish carefully, taking in the sensation of the warm water running against my skin. It was an oddly fascinating experience, one which has helped me break down my aversion towards the task.

Since this practice, I’ve begun to notice more things in passing. That really oddly-shaped stone on the ground. That faint, but beautiful melody from a distant bird. That certain phrase that my friend actually says quite a lot. This concept – that people, places, chores can be fascinating if you try – have added a little bit of extra magic to each day and is something I’ll be looking to apply in other areas of life.