The way-seeking mind of a tenzo is actualised by rolling up your sleeves.

— Dōgen Zenji (道元 禅師, 1200–1253)

When everything seems to need my attention at once, I often return to the kitchen in search of order. With a full schedule, it would seem reasonable to let kitchen work slip. The same is true in moments of emotional fatigue or exhaustion. When time and energy are scarce, surely the more efficient, self-soothing choice would be to order in, eat out, or reach for something ready-made.

All the more reason, I’d argue, to return to the kitchen. Nourishment is non-negotiable, and meals made from scratch tend to be healthier, better equipping us for the day’s demands. But beyond nutrition, the kitchen offers something more: a moment offline, a shift into a simpler mode where one physical action follows another in a practical order. The sequence of preparing, cooking, and cleaning is a contained cycle that, once complete, leaves me refocused and re-centred.