Manual Chores is Therapeutic for a Startup Founder’s Chaotic Life

A startup founder’s calendar often feels like a battlefield: investor meetings stacked against product deadlines, endless pings from Slack, numbers that refuse to make sense, and fires that appear where least expected. It’s chaos wrapped in caffeine. Yet, in the middle of this noise, there are small, almost absurdly simple, sanctuaries. For me, they often arrive in the shape of manual chores.

The world of building startups demands velocity. Manual chores whisper slowness. They ask for nothing except presence. Dishwashing, sweeping, folding laundry, or tending a garden are not glamorous pursuits. But they are precisely the antidotes to the violent rush of entrepreneurial life.

Philosophy of Chores

Chores are usually dismissed as background tasks, things to outsource or automate. But what if they are more than that? What if washing a plate is as much about cleaning the mind as it is about removing grease?

“Manual chores are not tasks to outsource away; they are architectures of inner calm.”

Many cultures embed this wisdom. Japanese traditions hold folding clothes as a ritual of gratitude. Zen monks sweep floors as part of their meditation, believing each stroke of the broom clears both dust and ego. Scandinavian homes embrace order and simplicity, where even arranging cutlery can become an act of design.

As a founder, I’ve realized these cultural practices have lessons hidden inside them. Chores are not chores. They are counterbalances, micro-therapies, and rituals that sharpen the mind while grounding the spirit.

Scandinavian Dishwashing: Architecture in Plates

Take the dishwasher. Most people see it as a utilitarian machine. I see it as a Scandinavian architect might: a structure waiting for form and balance.

“In the silence of arranging dishes or folding clothes, a founder rediscovers the rhythm that startups often erase.”

Each plate, each bowl, each spoon has its place. I stack them not in haste but in quiet intention. Edges aligned, sizes sorted, angles precise. It becomes a kind of architectural exercise, an aesthetic of order. In the silence of arranging dishes, I find the reflection of building a product: design, test, iterate, and find beauty in alignment.

When the cycle ends and I unload the cleaned plates, there’s a sense of closure that many startup tasks never grant. Unlike product roadmaps that stretch into infinity, dishes grant a clean start. The ritual begins again tomorrow.¹

Japanese Laundry: The Flow of Cycles

Clothes, too, carry their lessons. Washing, drying, and folding clothes is not merely about cleanliness. It is about respecting cycles.

In Japan, laundry is treated with care, almost reverence. There’s a mindfulness in folding a shirt so it sits flat, or in hanging fabric so it dries in sunlight. This rhythm mirrors the cycles of a startup: build, release, learn, repeat. A startup is rarely linear; it flows in seasons of chaos and calm.

Folding clothes teaches closure. Each fold is a decision, a line drawn between what is done and what remains undone. In a world where founders often carry unfinished work in their heads, the simple act of folding a towel offers a meditation on completeness.²

Sweeping Like a Zen Monk: Clearing the Floor, Clearing the Mind

The broom has its place, too. Zen monasteries treat sweeping not as maintenance but as mindfulness. The body bends, the hands move, dust rises and settles.

“Each broom stroke, each fold, each rinse is a reminder: order begins in the smallest acts.”

For a founder, sweeping becomes a reminder that decluttering is never about reaching a permanent state. It is about repetition. Much like codebases need constant refactoring, floors need constant sweeping. Dust always returns. The lesson: Embrace repetition rather than fighting it.³

Gardening: Patience in Seasons

A small garden, even if just a balcony with a few plants, is another classroom. Watering, pruning, and waiting remind me that growth is a seasonal process. Seeds do not rush. Plants do not check metrics. They grow in cycles of sunlight and shadow, with patience as their only secret.

Startups often glamorize overnight success, but gardening whispers a deeper truth: real growth takes time, and sometimes the most important action is simply waiting. ⁴

Brewing Tea: The Ritual of Slowness

Brewing tea, especially the slow traditions of China or Japan, forces me to abandon haste. You cannot rush boiling water or unfolding leaves. Watching steam rise is as therapeutic as watching a graph settle after weeks of volatility.

A founder learns here that not every problem is solved with speed. Sometimes, it is solved through slowness, waiting, and silence.⁵

Sharpening Knives: The Art of Refinement

Even sharpening knives becomes a metaphor. The friction of steel on stone, repeated over and over, removes dullness. It sharpens edges, restores clarity.

In a founder’s world, this is process refinement. The startup begins clumsily and bluntly. Iteration, sometimes tedious, sometimes slow, removes friction, polishes, and reveals sharpness.⁶

Folding with Gratitude: Order Out of Chaos

Marie Kondo has made folding into an art form. The philosophy is not just about order, but gratitude, thanking each object as you touch it.

For a founder surrounded by chaos, this small act makes a significant difference. Folding socks is not about socks. It is about taming chaos into manageable shapes. It is about remembering to be grateful for the small tools and companions of daily life.⁷

Manual Tasks as Therapy Without Screens

There’s also a tactile relief in chores. The feeling of warm water on hands, the scent of freshly dried clothes, the scrape of a broom against the floor. They all pull me back into the physical world.

A founder’s life is dominated by screens: dashboards, emails, chats, pitch decks. Manual chores cut that tether, even briefly. They restore connection to the physical, grounding the mind in sensations that algorithms cannot replicate.

Counterbalance to Startup Velocity

The startup world glorifies speed. “Move fast and break things” became a mantra. However, speed without grounding can lead to burnout, distraction, and poor decision-making.

Chores move at their own pace. They cannot be rushed. They become the founder’s therapy, not in escaping responsibility, but in balancing it. Where the startup demands sprinting, chores demand walking. Where investors ask for growth, chores ask for patience.

The Architecture of Inner Calm

At the end of the day, manual chores are not tasks to outsource. They are architectures of inner calm.

Loading dishes like a Scandinavian architect. Washing clothes like a Japanese caretaker. Sweeping like a Zen monk. Gardening like an English steward. Brewing tea like a Chinese scholar. Folding with gratitude like Marie Kondo. Sharpening knives like a craftsman.

Each ritual restores balance. Each one is a small reminder that building a company is not just about managing chaos, but also about cultivating order within oneself.

Startups are unpredictable. Chores are predictable. And somewhere between the two lies the founder’s resilience.