Your Struggle is a Full Kitchen Sink
Are you leaving it to soak?
If you’re struggling with something insurmountable, it might be because you’re only looking at the mound of dishes in your sink.
You stare down at it: the pan at the base with some forgotten meal burnt onto it, layers of gross plates and greasy pans, ice-cream bowls and coffee cups. It’s spilling out over the edges, onto the counter and the drainer. Clean and dirty, new and old all mixed up together. It’s too much. It’s exhausting just to comprehend.
But then you see it.
A teaspoon.
Not even a particularly dirty teaspoon. The drink boiled away most of its own residue. It’s a tiny, shiny spoon.
You turn the hot tap on, get some soap on the sponge, and give that little spoon a wash.
There’s a fork from the other night’s bolognaise. It was that good, you didn’t leave any sauce behind. An easy win.
Then a sandwich plate.
A water glass.
The measuring cup that only ever held a few grams of sugar.
Watch yourself on that sharp knife.
The first big plate in the drainer is somehow impressive, glimmering there.
You wash another and another, stack ’em up like obedient soldiers.
And here’s the kicker: That hideous pan. That filthy thing that had cheese and potato and meat and sauce and vegetables seared to its surface, that exhausting paragon of filth . . .
It’s half clean. The hot water and bubbles and drips from the teaspoon and the water glass, the fork and the sandwich plate and all that splash that fell through the colander, they rinsed away most of the trouble. Suddenly it’s just a pan. Seconds later it’s clean and you can take a breath and go to bed.
Whatever it is you’re going through, no matter how insurmountable or overwhelming it might seem, don’t focus on the mound or the mountain.
Find the smallest possible thing you can achieve to nudge yourself in the right direction and start there.
Call the doctor. Eat a banana. Go for a walk. Clear your inbox.
Wash the teaspoon.
You’ll get there.
