My Rice Cooker Broke—and It Changed My Life
Finding joy in the little things that matter to each of us

Last month, my rice cooker suddenly refused to work. I got upset and yelled at it. “Come on!” It was just before dinner time.
I hit the cook button, again and again, unplugged, plugged, and hit it again. But there was only dead silence after an unfamiliar beeping.
It was a mere annoyance because I had been productivity driven for a long time. Productivity gurus on YouTube—like Ali Abdaal—were my heroes.
Feeling ashamed of my poor operations management in the kitchen, I gave up on coaxing the machine to work and pulled out my phone, and googled, “how to cook rice in a pot.”
Leave rinsed rice in water for half an hour, boil the water with rice, keep the lid shut and simmer for 10 minutes, turn off the heat and wait another 10 minutes.
When I sheepishly opened the lid, the rice was shining like pearls. To my surprise, it was the best rice I’d ever made. Each grain was perfectly fluffy with just the right amount of stickiness. Feasting on rice that was sweeter than usual, I was overjoyed.
Choosing Joy Over Productivity
Although my husband suggested buying a new rice cooker, I declined his proposal. Cooking in the pot wasn’t a lot of work, and I could precook and freeze my wonderful rice for emergencies. (I’m not going to lie, though. Tools do matter. I will stick forever with the cast iron cookware by the French company Staub.)
This small incident totally shifted my view. I realized that I had given up joy in the name of convenience and productivity.
For instance, I’d avoided buying printed books over the past few years since e-books and Audible seemed better for reading fast in an environmentally-friendly manner.
But I’ve always been drawn to printed books. Having a physical copy of books helps me read more; when there is a half-read paperback sitting on the living room table, I automatically pick it up and turn the pages. And I’ve always dreamed of having a towering bookshelf that covers an entire wall.
After throwing away my broken rice cooker, I lifted the ban and permitted myself to buy secondhand books—that seemed the perfect compromise for both environmental and wallet friendliness. The smell and touch of paper were comforting. And I didn’t need to change my reading habits entirely. I still read Kindle books, too.
These days, “choosing joy over productivity” has become my new slogan. It didn’t take long to notice that it’s similar to the Zen mind or mindfulness.
When I was driven by productivity, my focus was on overall efficiency, which led to a shorter attention span and frustration when things didn't work out as planned.
Now, I’m more relaxed and easygoing as long as meals are delightful and books are waiting for me. I stopped cooking elaborate dishes on weekdays and doom-scrolling news websites and social media.
Young Generations Crave Mindful Life
I’m not the only person tired of productivity and a busy lifestyle. It’s even impacting the spread of the population across Japan. Young workers who constantly drain themselves at work have been leaving major cities like Tokyo for good.
With the remote work trend in 2021, the 23 wards of Tokyo experienced negative population growth. A larger number of residents moved out from Tokyo than those who moved in—specifically, the gap was 14,828— for the first time. Experts say people in their 20s to 40s are considering relocating to a quieter place more than ever.
Those who can’t move out of big cities find their solace on YouTube. Creators who upload their mindful lives called “丁寧な暮らし系YouTuber (teinei na kurashi-kei yūchūbā)” have been growing their fanbase.





