13/07/2025

ON SUNDAY JULY 13, 2025 theSunday Special V

Zen of greasy plates Surprising peace that comes from doing one thing, even if it’s the dishes

when you wash dishes, you interrupt that buildup. You reset the space. You show your mind that some messes can be handled. Slowly. Gently. Completely. Science and soap suds Even science backs this up. In a study published in the journal Mindfulness , researchers from Florida State University found that participants who washed dishes mindfully – paying close attention to the smell of the soap, the feel of the water and the touch of the dishes – reported a 27% reduction in nervousness and a 25% increase in mental inspiration after the task. You don’t have to do it slowly or per fectly. You just have to do it presently. That PHDQV QRWLFLQJ WKH IHHO RI \RXU ¿QJHUV 7KH ZD\ WKH ZDWHU ÀRZV 7KH VSDUNOH RI D JODVV WKDW ZDV IRJJHG ¿YH VHFRQGV DJR It means letting the task absorb you, not as a form of distraction, but as a return to what is real and immediate. In many Malaysian households, the kitchen sink is the quiet centre of the evening – after dinner’s done, after the last bowl of curry has been scraped clean. You might hear a late-night music playing from a phone tucked behind the dish rack or the rhythmic splash of water echoing down a tiled corridor. It’s not glamorous, but it’s familiar and in its own way, deeply comforting. In a world that rewards speed, being still with something as simple as this can feel rebellious. It could be. Perhaps stress isn’t always a monster that needs to be slayed. Maybe sometimes, it just needs a soft place to land. A pause. A moment. A sink full of water. And if nothing else, at least you’ll have clean plates. That counts too.

You reset the space. You show your mind that some messes can be handled. Slowly. Gently. Completely.”

BY CECELIA FONG

while scrubbing a greasy pan. You’re less likely to be sucked into a spiral of doom while holding a dripping plate. In that way, it forces a kind of quiet. It puts you back into rhythm – something humans have always used to soothe the nervous system, whether through music, move ment or mantra. Of course, this doesn’t mean every moment at the sink becomes a Zen retreat. Sometimes it’s frustrating. Sometimes you grumble. Sometimes you drop a glass. But even then, there’s something to be said for the simplicity of it. You know what needs doing. You know when it’s done. There’s no ambiguity. No negotiation. Just soap, water and one small task completed at a time. There’s also a quiet metaphor at work. Dishes come after nourishment. After connection. After chaos. They are the aftermath of life happening. Cleaning them is not just maintenance – it’s a kind of ritual closure. A way of saying: this moment is done. Let’s clear the space for what comes next. In that sense, even dishwashing can help alleviate stress. Because stress thrives on the buildup of mess left unattended, whether emotional or otherwise. But

Ritual closure … dishwashing, often seen as mundane, offers a moment of rhythm and reset.

T HE most ordinary task in the world can sometimes be the most unexpected teacher. It turns out that what you need isn’t always a break from doing, but a shift in how you do it. For something so small and everyday, washing the dishes carries a surprising amount of emotional weight. It can feel OLNH WKH ¿QDO VWUDZ LQ DQ DOUHDG\ WLULQJ day, the thing that pushes you from mildly annoyed to full-blown resentful. The plates pile up, the cutlery gets crusty and somehow, it’s always your turn. But strangely, it’s also one of those WDVNV WKDW ZKHQ GRQH ULJKW R̆ HUV D NLQG of unexpected calm. Not glamorous. Not enlightening. Just ... grounding. In a world where stress often feels like a permanent backdrop, even a little grounding can PDNH D GL̆ HUHQFH Rhythm over reward The sink is rarely mentioned in productiv ity manuals or wellness blogs. It’s not inspirational. It’s not even particularly sat isfying – unlike baking, there’s no warm reward at the end. But dishwashing has something else going for it: Rhythm. The warm water. The slow circling of a sponge. The clatter of clean plates. The small pleasure of creating order, one bowl at a time. It doesn’t require much brain power, but it demands just enough focus to keep your mind from spiralling too far. It brings you back into your body, your senses, your breath. It’s no coincidence that Buddhist monks often speak about mindful dishwashing. Vietnamese Zen teacher Thich Nhat Hanh famously wrote about it, urging people to “wash the dishes to wash the dishes” – not to rush through it, not as a chore to be completed, but as an act in and of itself. A presence practice. A way to stop speeding through life’s smallest moments. At first, this might sound absurd. Dishes? Really? But consider this: Much

of our daily stress doesn’t come from what we’re doing; it comes from the mental noise we carry while doing it. Our minds are rarely where our hands are. We’re worrying about emails while brushing our teeth, planning tomorrow’s meeting while cooking rice or arguing with someone in our heads while chopping onions. We move through the day, split in half, physically present but mentally elsewhere. A return to the senses Washing dishes, oddly enough, provides a rare opportunity to reunite those two halves. You can’t really scroll your phone

Stress thrives on the buildup of mess left unattended, whether emotional or otherwise.