I was doing laundry the other day — yes, this is where we are now, folks. Riveting stuff happening over here. And I couldn’t help but think about how, just a year ago, I was days away from boarding a plane, heading overseas, alone, chasing something bigger than my everyday routine.

Funny how life has a way of rerouting you. Grounding you. Sometimes gently, sometimes not so gently.

And yet…here I am. Doing laundry. And oddly enough, loving the fact that I can.

There was a time not too long ago when even the simplest tasks felt out of reach.

So the ability to stand there, folding clothes, debating the fate of a cotton T-shirt?

I don’t take that lightly anymore.

My husband and I approach laundry very differently. He’s a once-or-twice-a-week, let-it-all-pile-up kind of person. Mountains of clothes, tackled in one go. Efficient, in its own way.

Me? I’m a little more… steady.

A load a day.

A constant rhythm. Never overwhelming, never quite finished either.

And somewhere between his method and mine, I found myself folding the same T-shirt — again. Maybe the third time that week. And I paused. How many T-shirts are sitting in drawers, untouched, simply because of the way I cycle through laundry?

How many pieces of clothing are perfectly good, but never chosen, because they’re not the first thing I see?

And then the next thought — because of course there’s always a next thought — how much faster is this one T-shirt wearing out simply because it keeps making its way back to the top of the pile?

I know. I really should find better things to think about. But I didn’t.

I leaned into it.

Because it made me wonder…how often do we do this in other areas of our lives?

How often do we reach for what’s easiest, what’s visible, what’s right in front of us — without ever really considering everything else that’s available?

The opportunities we forget we have. The people we haven’t checked in on. The ideas sitting quietly in the “I’ll get to that later” pile.

All because they’re not at the top.

It’s not intentional. It’s human.

We’re wired for efficiency. For ease. For grabbing what’s right there and moving on to the next thing. Especially in seasons of life where we’re just trying to keep up, keep going, keep everything moving.

But what if we’re unintentionally wearing out the same parts of our lives the way I’m wearing out that T-shirt?

Leaning on the same routines. The same choices. The same safe, familiar options.

Not because they’re the best, but because they’re the most visible.

And what if — just like my drawer full of forgotten clothes — there’s more available to us than we’re actually using?

More joy. More connection. More possibility.

It doesn’t require a full life overhaul. It might just mean pausing long enough to look past the top of the pile.

To reach a little deeper. To rotate what we lean on. To give something else a turn.

Maybe it’s as simple as wearing a different T-shirt. Or maybe it’s finally picking up that idea, that conversation, that version of yourself you keep putting back in the drawer for later.

I don’t know.

But I do know this — sometimes the most ordinary moments, like standing in your laundry room folding the same shirt for the third time, are the ones quietly asking you to look at your life a little differently.

And if nothing else? I might start digging a little deeper in my drawers.

Who knows what I’ve been missing?

Mother, author, entrepreneur and founder of Dandelion-Inc, Lisa Resnick wants to hear your story. Share memories with her by emailing lisa@dandelion-inc.com.