The Joy of Puttering

Whilst living in Costa Rica in 2023, my Spanish teacher once asked if I had any weekend plans as we wrapped up our last lesson of the week.

Lacking an exciting calendar, I replied, “Puttering.”

Which was a word—and concept—he’d never heard of, leading to a lovely conversation in spanglish about the simple joys of puttering.

If you’re unfamiliar, puttering is to occupy yourself in an aimlessly pleasant way, engaging in small tasks without much concentration. 

There’s no rush or stress, and very little purpose.

I love a good putter.

And a couple Sundays ago, I had one of the best putters in ages—fuelled by an unneeded mid-afternoon coffee and daylight savings-induced circadian confusion.

I was up buzzing long past my bedtime puttering about The Cabin, tidying here, lounging for a moment there, putting things in their perfect spot.

Straightening up a pile of books. Folding and rearranging a blanket just so. Dusting off Lego cars and dragons. Moving plants around to better-suited locations while watering some, trimming a withered leaf here, admiring new growth there.

Puttering is tending, but never to anything urgent.

Apparently I find much peace and satisfaction in tending to life’s little details, the tasks and chores that don’t really matter, the quiet tidying and reorganizing of one’s space.

Not only does puttering allow you to take care of things like watering plants, taking out recycling, folding laundry, and banishing clutter, but the process of mostly-purposeless action makes for an excellent thinking state.

There’s a sense of flow that often arises, and I posit that puttering is a handy antidote against the pressure we often feel to get as much done as quickly as possible.

To putter is to embody the Tao Te Ching’s wisdom:

“When nothing is done, nothing is left undone.” 

Nothing urgent, nothing pressing. Yet by the end, life feels a wee bit more in order.

In puttering, you don’t really do anything—certainly not with planning or purpose. 

Instead, you flit and flutter about, riding a wave of intuitive feeling.

You simply be.

And that, I think, is one of the most precious things of all.

With love from the forest,

~ Alexander