As I navigate this middle chapter of my life, I’ve realized that I often grapple with the seemingly endless small tasks that fill my day. Sure, I relish the grand cycles of life: the seasons changing, the familiar rhythms of the calendar, and the comfort in knowing that amidst the uncertainty of the future, some things remain constant—like the weather, holidays, birthdays, and the arrival and departure of birds.
Recently, I stumbled upon a thought-provoking quote from Ursula K. Le Guin’s Voices:
“I always wondered why the makers leave housekeeping and cooking out of their tales. Isn’t it what all the great wars and battles are fought for—so that at day’s end a family may eat together in a peaceful house?” She goes on to ponder the unsung efforts of those who keep the home fires burning while the heroes are off on their quests.
Washing dishes and walking the dog may not seem thrilling. It might even feel a bit ridiculous to expect applause after folding the tenth shirt or cleaning up a spilled snack. Housekeeping and cooking often serve as the backdrop for life’s major moments—often unnoticed, just assumed to be there, like the air we breathe. You won’t find the household chores celebrated in epic tales; they simply exist as part of the fabric of life.
People often joke about the drudgery of housekeeping, with memes depicting overwhelmed women in vintage attire, wine glass in hand, lamenting their lot. A clean house, they say, signals a life misspent. Yet, beyond these humorous portrayals, the reality remains: someone has to wash the cups and clean up the applesauce. This is essential work.
For a long time, I’ve chased after more—believing that each new goal would bring fulfillment. This desire fuels my writing but sometimes makes tasks like mopping the floor feel overwhelming. Yet, I have come to realize that it’s the quiet, uncelebrated work that keeps life moving forward. Perhaps scrubbing the floor is, in its own way, monumental.
Now, as I find myself in this busy season of life with three young kids, I seek contentment in the chaos. Yes, laundry and meals await, but there’s also a delightful abundance of demands—playtime, fetching milk, fastening capes, and hunting for lost craft supplies. In a humorous twist, I know I’ll miss these frenzied days.
My son, Leo, loves to pitch in with the laundry. Sure, it takes longer, but I cherish our conversations about school, his friends, and his big thoughts about life as he hands me clothes. My daughters, Mia and Ava, are eager kitchen helpers, each vying for a turn to pour and savor the scents of vanilla and cinnamon. Even when cooking solo, I find joy in the simple act of chopping shallots and inhaling the aroma of garlic sizzling in olive oil, all while preparing a meal to share with my family.
Though it’s often challenging to appreciate the necessary tasks that sustain our lives while also carving out time for the grander aspects of existence, I remind myself that even the smallest chores can constitute significant contributions. They lay the groundwork for our daily lives; they’re like the structured outline of a great novel or the clean canvas of a masterpiece. These reflections keep me grounded as I pour out dirty water and clean up the remnants of our day.
“You’ll come to learn a great deal if you study the Insignificant in depth.” —Odysseus Elytis
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In summary, even in the mundane tasks of our daily lives, we can find beauty and significance. As I embrace this stage of motherhood, I recognize that the small things may indeed be the most important.