The Power of Doing Less (and Being Happier)

 

The Dishwasher That Changed My Life

I once read a short story about a therapist that I still think about regularly. A woman was venting in a session about how much she hated washing dishes. The chore filled her with resentment. It felt endless. And to make matters worse, her dishwasher never seemed to get the dishes clean.

The therapist listened and then said something so obvious it felt revolutionary:

“Run the dishwasher twice.”

That was it. No deep childhood excavation. No reframing her relationship with domestic labor. Just permission to do the thing in a way that actually worked.

Something clicked in my brain.

Because the problem wasn’t the dishes. It was the anger she felt every single day while doing them. That tiny shift, the idea that we’re allowed to remove unnecessary friction from our lives, quietly changed mine. Because maybe sometimes there is a hidden cost to doing things the "right" way.

For years, I did chores the “correct” way. The socially approved way. The way I assumed was required of me.

Take laundry.

Every time I washed clothes, I found myself turning shirts, pants, and socks right side out because my kids and husband took them off inside out. Every. Single. Load. It added time. It added annoyance. And most importantly, it added resentment to a task I already didn’t love.

I’d stand there, flipping sleeves and pant legs, thinking things I’m not proud of. Why can’t they just take their clothes off normally? Why am I the only one fixing this? Why does this feel so unfair?

Then one day, that therapist’s voice floated back into my head. Run the dishwasher twice, or in my case: don’t turn the clothes right side out.

The Radical Act of Not Fixing It

So I stopped.

I washed the clothes as they were. I folded them and hung them up as they were. I put them away exactly as they came out of the dryer.

Inside out. Wrinkled in odd places. Imperfect. And then I waited. Oh, how I waited. I'm not too proud to admit that one of my many faults is my ability to simmer and be petty (I'm working on it). I had many mental arguments and was mentally prepared for any comments my family might make, and I had a list of comebacks loaded for when it happened.

Surely someone would notice. Surely someone would complain. Surely this tiny rebellion would be exposed.

No one said a word!!! Not once. Not my kids. Not my husband. Not a single comment or question about inside-out shirts or oddly folded pants.

What did change was me.

Laundry stopped feeling like a quiet punishment. I wasn’t simmering while doing it. I wasn’t mentally tallying invisible injustices. I had removed a source of daily irritation simply by opting out of a rule that never actually mattered.

Happiness Is Sometimes Just Fewer Rules

That’s what the dishwasher story taught me. And the laundry proved it.

Happiness isn’t always about adding more gratitude, more mindfulness, or more productivity hacks. Sometimes it’s about subtracting.

Subtracting expectations.
Subtracting unnecessary effort.
Subtracting the belief that suffering is part of the deal.

If a chore fills you with anger or discontent, it’s worth asking: is there a way to do this that doesn’t drain me?

Run the dishwasher twice.
Don’t turn the clothes right side out.
Leave the bed unmade.
Buy the pre-cut fruit.

Most of the “rules” we follow are invisible, self-imposed, and strangely optional.

And the people around us? They often don’t notice when we quietly choose ourselves.

Though you don't need my permission I'm giving it to you. Find the thing that you can "leave inside out" and still be okay. What would happen if you chose ease just this once? Find the thing that quietly annoys you and give yourself permission to stop.