Tiny Missions

Here’s what I try to do every night, just before bed:

• Empty the automatic coffee maker, and set it up for the morning to brew coffee at 6:30 a.m.,
• Empty the dishwasher.
• Clean off the countertops. 

I do not bat 1000 on this effort, but when I do it, it’s very satisfying, both in the doing (ending the day by defeating entropy), and the next morning (when it feels like a gift from my nighttime self to my daytime self).

David Cain writes about this sort of task in The Tiniest Mission:

Essentially, you’re taking the little act that’s before you, and making a tiny, focused mission out of it. Find the scissors in this drawer. Put the broom back on its hook. Pour myself a glass of water. You put a little imaginary wall around the act, making it into a small, two-to-ten-second arc in which you’re concerned only with the tiny mission.

Then you watch this little mission unfold to its end, which only takes a few seconds. You watch your hands fold the towel, or button up the shirt, or lift the faucet lever. You notice any obvious aesthetic details, like the bubbles forming and dispersing as you fill the glass, and the “chhhhh” sound of the running water.

Performing the tiny mission is only a matter of taking a real interest in witnessing what’s happening here, which only takes a few seconds. Be here for The Filling of the Glass. Be here for The Hanging of the Jacket. Then, tiny mission completed, you carry on with your day.

You don’t need to think about it or be fussy about it. Don’t worry about doing it slowly, or “mindfully.” Your body already knows how to do the thing. Your job is just to watch this work unfold to its satisfying conclusion, like a curious little film clip. It’s so short you won’t get bored.