Put your house in order before you take on the world’s problems

You notice the sour taste of a familiar habit—another late argument over nothing important, another groggy morning, another sink stacked to the faucet. The world’s problems felt heavy today and it was easy to blame them. But the plate in your hand is yours, and you can rinse it right now. Warm water runs, the clink of ceramic hits the rack, and the small sound surprises you with relief.

Later, the phone calls your thumb. News, comments, a flash of outrage. You place the charger in the kitchen instead of the nightstand and feel silly walking it there. In bed, you reach into empty air and exhale. Two pages of a paperback replace fifty swipes. It’s not noble, but you’re less awake at midnight, and your morning is kinder.

Stopping what you know is wrong doesn’t fix everything, but it builds a floor you can stand on. The weekly audit is a quiet mirror, not a trial. You ask, what did I stop, what did I start instead, and what’s next by one inch. The answers are specific: a mug rinsed, a text softened, a bedtime respected.

When the news roars tomorrow, your house will not be perfect. But it will be more orderly because your choices are. From there, your voice in bigger conversations carries differently. Not louder, just steadier.

This is practical morality as behavior design: reduce friction for good acts, increase friction for bad ones, and review honestly. It also reflects locus of control: act where your actions clearly change outcomes, then scale your efforts outward with credibility and energy.

Name three things you know you should stop and write them down. Add friction to each—move the charger, log out, soak the pan—then replace the habit with a visible alternative like two pages of a book or a single kind text before a hard talk. Every Sunday, run a five‑minute integrity audit: what did I stop, what did I do instead, what one small stop is next. Keep it specific and winnable. Try moving the charger tonight and see how you feel in the morning.