One of my favorite icebreakers is a simple one:
What's your favorite household chore?
The answers always feel revealing in a way that's hard to figure. Does knowing that my colleague loves steam-cleaning actually tell me anything about them?
Maybe not—but it's still a delightful little nugget to have in the back of my mind.
My answer, if I recall, was wiping down the counters after dinner. I find clean counters a truly meditative condition, especially if they were gross beforehand.
But a wonderful episode of Enlightened prompted a different answer for me:
Turning out all the lights before bed.
But is it a chore? Depends how you define chore, I guess.
For me, a chore is that maintains some part of your life. That means anything from emptying the compost to cleaning cat litter to getting the car washed.
So, the lights.
There's something lovely about flicking them off before going up for bed. Part is familiarity—knowing which switches pair with which lights is essential. It's why the task is never satisfying in an unfamiliar house. (Though the same goes for most any other chore done in a strange house.)
Does any other required ritual action have the same transformative effect? Unless the carpet is egregiously dirty, or you're cleaning the dishes after a dinner party, nothing shifts the environment like going from light to dark.
