A monk turns up at the monastery and asks to be taught. The teacher asks him something so ordinary it sounds like a dodge: have you eaten. He has. Then go wash your bowl. That is the entire instruction, and the story has him understanding on the spot. The temptation is to hunt for the hidden meaning, which is the exact move the exchange refuses. Nothing was withheld and nothing was in code. He arrived expecting the practice to live somewhere other than where he was standing, and was handed the next real thing in front of him, still dirty. Your version of it is in the sink, or the inbox, or the laundry on the chair. Do the next plain thing today without treating it as the interruption before the important part.
A monk told Joshu: "I have just entered the monastery. Please teach me." Joshu asked: "Have you eaten your rice porridge?" The monk replied: "I have eaten." Joshu said: "Then you had better wash your bowl." At that moment the monk was enlightened.
The Gateless Gate, case 7 (trans. Nyogen Senzaki and Paul Reps, 1934)