The Quiet Power of Doing What We Don’t Like

"It’s fun to dream about the future. It’s easy to linger in the past. But the real work - the transformative work - is choosing to show up fully for what’s in front of us, especially when it’s not what we want to be doing."

The way we approach anything - today, this hour, this moment - echoes in how we meet everything in life. How you show up now is how you’ll show up always.

Most of us don’t delight in doing things we dislike. A job that feels uninspiring, a conversation out of obligation, a meal that doesn’t excite us. And yet, this is part of being human. There is a quiet grace in doing the unenjoyable. It softens us. It adds depth. It makes the simple pleasure, laughter over coffee, fresh sheets, a warm dinner, feel even more magical.

Still, our instinct is to resist. When we face a task that bores or unsettles us, we reach for distraction. We turn on the TV, scroll through our phones, or play a podcast in the background - not because we need the information, but because we need to escape the discomfort of the present moment.

This is how the brain works. When we engage in something pleasurable - a compliment, a sweet treat, a notification - it rewards us with dopamine. It reinforces the behavior. The more we reach for stimulation, the more our brain learns to expect it. Over time, it begins to crave it, even demand it.

In contrast, when we engage in something that feels dull, frustrating, or even mildly uncomfortable, a different part of the brain is activated - the amygdala. This region is responsible for processing discomfort, fear, and aversion. Over time, when a task becomes consistently associated with negative emotions, our instinct is to resist it. We avoid it, distract ourselves, or dissociate - often without even realising - so we don’t have to fully be present with the experience.

But here's the truth: much of what we like and dislike is learned. And through the power of neuroplasticity, we can begin to unlearn and rewire. With patience, presence, and repetition, we can teach our minds that not every moment must be entertaining. That not every task must sparkle.

It’s tempting to believe we’re being productive by multitasking - listening to the news while answering emails, checking texts during meetings, or putting on a podcast to get through a monotonous task. But this constant layering of stimulation isn’t just mentally draining; it teaches the brain to expect distraction, making quiet presence feel foreign, even uncomfortable.

Yet not everything that accompanies a task is a distraction. Sometimes, what we think of as noise is actually something that anchors us - our favorite podcast that carries us gently through tidying the room, a playlist that helps us slip into flow while working. The difference lies in the intention and the awareness.

Are you enhancing the experience, or escaping it? One anchors you deeper into the moment; the other pulls you away. And deep down, you often know which one you're choosing. And if you're unsure-—that’s your invitation to begin noticing. To start inquiring.

Instead, what if the mundane became a practice? What if folding laundry or doing admin wasn’t something to escape, but something to move through with quiet attention? Noticing the texture, the rhythm, the breath. Letting boredom surface. Letting it pass.

This isn’t glamorous. It won’t always feel good. Your brain will protest. It will beg for your phone, for music, for anything else. Let it. You can gently acknowledge the craving, even write it down on paper to observe it without reacting. And then, return.

With time, the practice becomes easier. You begin to reclaim the ability to be still. To be with discomfort. To notice the subtle beauty in tasks that once felt pointless. This is the gift of discipline - not punishment, but presence. A return to yourself.

If it ever feels futile to do what you don’t enjoy, remember: you’re not just doing this one thing. You’re training your brain to do hard things. You’re building resilience. You’re deepening your capacity to appreciate small moments. You’re tuning your nervous system to a quieter, steadier frequency.

Each task can be a kind of meditation: feel the urge to flee. Notice it. Come back.

This work isn’t easy. The mind resists change. It longs for the familiar path of avoidance and quick hits. But with care and consistency, you’ll begin to create a new rhythm - one that supports presence, intention, and the quiet beauty of simply being here.