Before Enlightenment, Wash the Dishes

In this episode of None But Curious, we explore something beautifully ordinary—cleaning—and how it can become a quiet ritual of mindfulness, renewal, and self-connection. What if every act of tidying or washing was less about perfection and more about presence?

This episode invites you to slow down and see your everyday routines in a new light. Inspired by Zen Buddhism and Feng Shui, we uncover how small gestures of care—sweeping, folding, wiping, or simply pausing—can transform both your space and your inner world.

Through personal reflections and ancient wisdom, you’ll learn how to make cleaning a grounding, meditative practice that supports emotional clarity, spiritual balance, and mental calm.

What You’ll Hear In This Episode:

• How cleaning can shift from a chore to a mindful ritual of care and grounding.

• A Zen Buddhist teaching  about finding meaning in daily life.

• Insights from Feng Shui, the ancient Chinese practice of harmonizing energy (qi) in your home.

• How your environment mirrors your inner state—and how tending to your space helps you tend to yourself.

• Gentle adaptations for people with limited mobility, fatigue, or chronic pain, showing that mindful cleaning doesn’t require physical exertion—just attention and intention.

• Practical ways to invite calm into your space.

• The emotional and energetic meaning behind cleaning mirrors, bathrooms, kitchens, and doing laundry.

Why You’ll Love This Episode:

• Discover how to turn ordinary routines into sacred moments of mindfulness.

• Feel inspired to slow down and reclaim your home as a space of peace and balance.

• Learn how presence, not perfection, is what makes an act meaningful.

• Come away with gentle, accessible ideas for connecting with your environment—no matter your energy level or physical ability.

Subscribe to None But Curious wherever you listen to podcasts or visit nonebutcurious.org to explore more stories about finding meaning in the ordinary.

Episode Transcript

(00:00):
Welcome to the None But Curious podcast. We're all about finding inspiration in life's uncertainties.
Whether you're still figuring things out, questioning your beliefs, or just curious
about the world, come hang out with us as we celebrate the beauty of not having all the answers.

(00:21):
Hey, welcome back to None But Curious, where we learn to appreciate the extraordinary in
everyday moments. This season, we've been exploring the rituals that shape our days,
not the formal kind found in temples or sacred texts, the simple ones woven quietly into
ordinary life, the ones that don't need grand gestures or candles, just awareness.

(00:41):
And sometimes those rituals begin in the places we least expect them,
in the motions we once rushed through or overlooked entirely. I'll admit, sometimes cleaning feels
like something I just have to power through. The endless cycle of dishes, laundry, picking up crumbs,
wiping toothpaste specks off the mirror. It feels like life's background noise. It's never done.

(01:05):
It's never special. But over time, something shifted. Cleaning stopped always feeling like
a task to finish, and sometimes starts to feel like a practice to return to,
a way to come back to myself, a way to make meaning from a mess.
Each morning begins with small movements of care, opening the curtains, washing a favorite cup,

(01:26):
making breakfast. These quiet gestures are how the day begins again. They're reminders that every
morning offers a new beginning and the simplest acts of tending and renewal. There's something
sacred in those first few moments. The sound of the water running, the scent of soap, the rhythm
of restoring order. Cleaning has become its own kind of meditation. It's a dialogue between my

(01:50):
inner world and the space I move through. When I wipe down a counter or sweep the floor, it's not
about getting everything spotless. It's about grounding myself. When life feels too full,
cleaning helps me breathe again. When I'm sad, it helps me process. And when I'm restless,
it helps me focus. It's not about perfection. It's about presence. There's a teaching in

(02:16):
Zen Buddhism that says, before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment,
chop wood, carry water. That reminds me that meaning doesn't always come from doing new things.
It comes from noticing the old things, everyday motions that hold our lives together.
Cleaning is one of those motions. In feng shui, the ancient Chinese art of arranging space for

(02:41):
harmony and flow, cleaning isn't just about appearances. It's about energy, what is also
known as chi. Every corner of your home holds energy. And when that energy gets stuck, it can
start to affect how we feel emotionally, mentally, even physically. So sweeping the floor isn't just
about dust. It's about moving energy, shifting what's stagnant, making space for new things

(03:06):
to enter your life. For example, bathrooms are considered places of release. They represent
letting go, literally and symbolically. Keeping them clean helps balance emotions and prevents
energy from draining away. Mirrors hold importance too. They reflect both light and energy. When you
clean them, you're not just removing smudges. You're clearing your inner vision, wiping away

(03:31):
distortion so you can see yourself more clearly. And even something as ordinary as doing laundry
becomes a ceremony of renewal. We wash away what clings to us. We fold what we want to keep close.
It's a rhythm of release and return. I think cleaning works on two levels, outer and inner.

(03:51):
On the outside, I'm just sweeping or mopping or wiping down things. But on the inside,
I'm sorting through my own clutter, grief, stress, anxiety, confusion. With every movement, I feel a
little clearer. There's something deeply emotional about it. I'll give you an example.

(04:13):
Right before I asked my ex-husband for a divorce, my home had started to mirror how I felt. Messy,
heavy, chaotic. I didn't have the energy to tend to all the things that would pile up.
So one day, I just cleaned the mirror in my master bathroom. That was it. Just wiped down the mirror.
And as the streaks disappeared, I felt something in me shift just a little bit, like the fog in my

(04:39):
head was clearing. It reminded me that clarity doesn't always come from thinking. Sometimes,
it comes from doing. Now, I want to pause here for something important, because cleaning can
be very physical work, and not everyone has the same capacity for it. If you live with pain,
fatigue, limited mobility, or just overall low energy, this practice still belongs to you.

(05:05):
You don't have to deep clean to find meaning. You don't even need to stand. If you can,
try this. Sit comfortably and wipe one small surface nearby. A table, a counter, a shelf,
or clean just one mirror, like I did. Wash the favorite window you use to gaze upon the outside

(05:25):
world. Wipe down one section of your space, like a nightstand or side table. And if movement isn't
possible that day, you can still participate through sensory rituals. You could light incense,
open a window and feel the air shift, spray a favorite scent or mist, or simply rearrange
what's within your reach. If fatigue is your biggest barrier, try micro cleaning.

(05:50):
Set a timer for five minutes and then go through one drawer, or put one load of laundry in the
washer, or clear out and wipe down your sink. The goal isn't to finish, it's to connect.
And if you're in bed or recovering, you can still cleanse energy symbolically. Smooth the sheets
around you. Fold a blanket with intention. Place an object near you, a stone, a candle, a flower,

(06:18):
and let it represent freshness and care. Each of these small gestures tells your space,
I'm tending to you, and in return, your space tends to you. In feng shui, there's a saying that
when you clear your home, you clear your mind. When I sweep, I often imagine I'm sweeping away
old thoughts, whether it be worries, regrets, yesterday's noise, the jingles that randomly

(06:44):
show up in my head. When I mop, I feel grounded as if I'm setting my feet on a fresh path.
And when I wash the windows, I think of it as an invitation to see the world more clearly,
to notice what I might have missed before, both outside and within.
Sometimes I light incense and turn on soft music in the background, not as a reward for finishing

(07:09):
up, but as a companion for the work itself. And that small burning ember and the light notes
turn an ordinary task into something sacred. Some spaces hum with a special kind of energy,
and the kitchen is one of them. It's the heart of the home, where nourishment begins and energy
gathers. In feng shui, the kitchen represents abundance and vitality. Keeping it clean and

(07:33):
balanced helps the flow of qi, the life energy that feeds both body and spirit.
Even the smallest gestures can shift how a space feels, whether it's wiping down the counters,
clearing the sink, even lighting a candle. Each movement becomes a quiet offering of gratitude,
a way of saying, this place matters. Washing dishes or sweeping the floor can be its own

(07:57):
kind of meditation. The warmth of the water, the steady rhythm of your hands,
the sound of surfaces coming clean, all of it invites you back into the present moment.
And if you can't physically do these motions, you can still imagine them. Picture light moving
through your kitchen, clearing away heaviness, brightening every corner until the space feels

(08:18):
open and alive again. The imagination has power. Sometimes just envisioning a clean,
harmonious space can restore a sense of calm and renewal. Laundry though, laundry might be
most human of all chores. There is something comforting about it. The smell of clean clothes,

(08:38):
the warmth from the dryer, the sound of fabric folding into itself. It's the story of renewal
over and over again. We wear, we wash, we wear again. Even if you only manage a few items,
folding one shirt or matching a pair of socks, let that be enough. Let it remind you that small

(08:59):
acts still carry meaning. So what makes cleaning a ceremony? It's not about the task itself.
It's the attention you bring to it. Before you start, pause. Take one slow breath.
Maybe whisper to yourself something like, with each room I cleanse, I restore balance within

(09:22):
and around me. Move slowly. Notice textures, sounds, scents. Feel the transformation as it happens.
You don't have to rush. You don't even have to enjoy it. Just be there with it.
When we clean with care, we're saying, this space matters. This life matters. I matter.

(09:48):
It's a form of love that doesn't need words. We tend to think of rituals as special things
reserved for sacred spaces, but maybe the most profound ones are the ones we do all the time.
Sweeping, folding, wiping down a counter. Zen monks understood this. They treated cleaning
as part of spiritual life. They swept as meditation, mopped with intention. They believe

(10:13):
when you clean the space, you clean the mind. Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.
After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. It means keep doing what you were doing,
but notice it, bless it, let it become alive. So the next time you clean, whatever that looks

(10:38):
for you, try approaching it as a quiet ritual. Light a candle, open a window, take a slow breath,
clean one thing with love. Not because someone else will see it, not because it needs to be
perfect, but because it's a way of honoring your space, your body, your moment in time.

(10:59):
Maybe it's not about getting rid of dust, but about revealing what's underneath.
Because when you tend to your space with intention, you tend to your own spirit, and that in itself
is a ceremony. Thank you for joining me today. If you liked this episode, please subscribe to

(11:21):
the None But Curious podcast and share with a friend that might dig it. If you have questions or insights,
join our None But Curious Facebook community. And until next time, find the awe in your ordinary moments.