Opinion: You don’t need to meditate. Just wash your dishes by hand. By Tyler Shane

When you’re in the pits of self-loathing, you don’t need to uproot your entire being. You just need discipline. The good news? Any discipline will do.

Forgoing modern appliances may seem extreme, but it’s key. It forces you to take pause, and this magical space of thoughtless productivity is where consistency builds. The rush of tap water transforming plate after plate, glass after glass, became meditative, an outlet for my nervous and anxious energy.

As chef Gabrielle Hamilton recounts in her memoir, “Blood, Bones & Butter,” “What I have loved about cooking my entire life, especially prep cooking, is the way it keeps your hands occupied but your mind free to sort everything out.”

After it became meditative, it became romantic. Now I watch the soapsuds eat away at each grease-riddled dish, stained coffee mug, silver spoon and scratched Tupperware. The faucet stream cathartically rinses away their muck, and even my “Good morning, a--hole” coffee mug, shiny with water droplets, gleams with gratification.

We love what we take care of, and we take care of what we love. Instead of groaning at the task of treating my cast iron skillet, I now treat it as a fulfilling act of service; I know that my time seasoning it with salt and oil will affect its life span and the palate of future generations. I scrub away at the hand-me-down dinnerware from my father-in-law, and I’m connected to him. In an unexpected way, pride has seeped into my kitchen work. Cleanliness is a matter of principle. (link)