A modern take on the Zen proverb.

You’ve heard the saying:
Before enlightenment—chop wood, carry water.
After enlightenment—chop wood, carry water.

Well, here’s the modern version:
Before success—wipe arse, chew food.
After success—wipe arse, chew food.

It’s crude.
It’s human.
It’s true.

There’s a belief—quiet but widespread—that once you find your purpose,
once you’re “in alignment,” all of your work should feel good.

That life should be all sunshine and rainbows.

Flow states. Big yes energy. All the feel-goods.

That meaningful work should always be enjoyable—every part of it.

How do I know people believe this?

Because they complain when it’s not:

“My body resists. I procrastinate.”

“I hate that part.”

“I don’t want to.”

They treat the lack of inspiration as misalignment.

As if the absence of excitement means something is wrong.

But here’s the question:

Do they think that way about wiping their arse? Or chewing their food?

No one loves those tasks; I mean, no one puts them on a vision board.

But we don’t suffer through them. We don’t resist them.

We just do them—because they’re part of being human.

We don’t expect inspiration to wipe our bum.

We don’t wait to feel “in flow” before we chew.

We don’t outsource them. We don’t glamorise them.

We just get on with it.

Why?

Because we’ve accepted that some things are repetitive, mundane, and not all that fun—but that doesn’t mean anything’s wrong. That’s just how it is.

Nothing is wrong that not all our work is inspiring and lights us up.

Nothing is wrong that some things are hard.

We only suffer when we believe things should be otherwise.

When we expect meaningful work to always be fun.

When we think the grass is greener.

When we confuse the presence of effort with the absence of alignment.

So let me be clear:

This is not a call to settle.

It’s not a suggestion to tolerate poor conditions.

It’s not about staying stuck, small, or silent.

Yes—take responsibility.

Yes—shape your life with intention.

Yes—aspire to meaningful work that lights you up.

But don’t confuse friction with failure.

Don’t mistake boredom for misalignment.

Don’t believe that purpose will rescue you from repetition.

Before success—wipe arse, chew food.

After success—wipe arse, chew food.

Freedom isn’t found in escaping the grind.

It’s found in dropping the illusion that you ever would.

Author’s Note:

I wrote this because my heart aches for those who keep striving to rearrange their lives in the hope that, one day, the hard parts will disappear.

We’re surrounded by messages that tell us the goal of life is ease.
That if we work hard enough, get the right strategy, build the right business, or find the right mindset, we’ll finally be free from the boring, the repetitive, the unpleasant.

This isn’t just a spiritual trap—it’s a cultural one.

It’s baked into the way we define success.

Productivity culture. Entrepreneurial fantasy. The “laptop lifestyle.”

All selling the idea that real success means eventually doing only what you love,
and never again having to do what you don’t.

But here’s the truth:

Even if you create a brilliant, aligned, meaningful life—

you’ll still have to wipe your arse.

You’ll still have to chew your food.

You’ll still have to show up when you don’t feel like it.

That’s not failure. That’s life.

Chewing is work. Wiping is work.

We don’t suffer through them—because we’ve accepted their necessity.

It’s resistance that causes suffering. Not the task.

Back in the day, “chop wood, carry water” meant survival—keeping warm, clean, and hydrated.

Today, we’ve outsourced those tasks to electricity and plumbing, but we haven’t escaped the grind.

We’ve just replaced it with inboxes, planning, payments, decisions, emotions, logistics.

Peace doesn’t come from having only inspiring work.

It comes from dropping the belief that we should.

That’s why I wrote this.

Not out of frustration—but out of deep care.

Because I’ve seen too many beautiful humans suffer unnecessarily, chasing a life free from effort.


And I want them to know:

There will always be parts of life and work you’d rather not do.

And that’s not a problem.