Minimum Viable Everything

Part Two: How applying MVP principles to my routines made my life easier (much to my chagrin)

In my last piece, ‘Minimum Viable Bullshit’, I talked about the myth of the perfect routine—how I’ve often fallen into the trap of trying to cram 35 hours of goals into a 24-hour day and then wonder why I’m exhausted, overwhelmed, and still falling short. I came to terms with the fact that I can’t “have it all” (at least not all at once) and also found a way to make it feel like I do (kind of). Yes, I want to have my cake and eat it. Don’t we all?

me, having my cake (and eating it too) throughout the years

I started thinking about how I approach my work as a product manager. In product, we use something called a Minimum Viable Product (MVP)—the simplest version of something that still provides value and helps us learn. I started to wonder: could I apply that same approach to my routines? What if, instead of chasing perfection, I focused on what was truly important and stripped everything else down to what is minimum and viable?

The results, much to my chagrin, have not only made my life easier, but also allows me to tell myself I am (sort of) able to have it all (not really). It creates just enough of that feeling of having it all that I walk away satisfied, feeling like I’m accomplishing the most minimal version of my goals.

Conceptually, it’s not a bad idea—hopefully you agree. But what does it look like in practice? That’s what we’ll be diving into today.

Writing more is a big goal for me in 2025, but the way I initially outlined it was: 30 minutes to an hour of writing for Substack every day and 10 minutes of journaling and also make sure to publish 4-5 times a month. This is a(n arbitrary) goal that outlines what I want to produce but not really about what I want to achieve. And it certainly doesn’t even touch on why I want to achieve it.

My goal is to write so that I can support a creative outlet within myself. My goal is also to make sure that writing doesn’t get in the way of my paid job, my unpaid job (parenting and keeping up with the cleanliness of a 3 bedroom duplex), my physical and mental health, and whatever else I deem important in the moment because (and this is important): doing so would make me resent writing and would make the habit unsustainable. So what can I do?

Enter the Minimum Viable Routine¹.

A Minimum Viable Routine (or MVR) is the smallest, most effective version of a habit or goal that meets your needs without overwhelming you. Much like scoping an MVP, it’s not about doing the smallest thing possible, but rather identifying what’s really important and then doing your best at doing that.

In this example, my need state is this: I want to find time to write so that I can express myself creatively through a medium I love.

My need state says nothing about time spent, essays published, etc. Those are outcomes I’ve put on myself, but I don’t actually have any data to show this is the best way of me actually expressing myself through writing. Getting to the core of why a behavior is important is key to this working.

So what’s my minimum viable way of getting there? For me, at least now, it’s writing or thinking about writing for a minimum 10 minutes every day. Some days it’ll be a 10 minute brain dump free write. Some days I’ll find an hour or two to really get my teeth into some idea that excites me and that 10 minute minimum is what sets me in motion. Some days I might write “I don’t know what to write about” over and over again. I might find that there’s a day where I just want to sit for 10 minutes and think about writing, having something to jot down ideas as—and if—they come to me, but no pressure to do so.

For me, this is the minimum amount of work I would need to put in, day over day, in order to feel like I am able to push my creativity through writing. If I can commit to this, every day for a year, I’d think “wow, I really did that”.

Before we get into more examples, here’s the framework:

Minimum Viable Routine

1. Identify an ACTION or NEED that is really important to you in this season of life.

2. Think about why that goal matters and what it fulfills.

3. Strip it down to the smallest, most effective version that still meets that need.

4. Be flexible. Your MVR can (and should!) change as your life changes.

While writing is a very brain-focused, somewhat time-consuming activity (for lack of a better term), the idea of creating an MVR works in other, simpler aspects of my routine as well. I have gotten woefully awful at following my skincare routine, and I think it’s because the routine got too big to sustain and I was thinking about in an entirely too black-and-white way. Skincare, at its core, is really about taking care of myself in a small but important (to me!) way. Applying the MVR framework, I know why I want to commit to it. Now, I need to figure out how I can support that need in the smallest way.

My skincare routine used to feel overwhelming, so I broke it down to my MVR: cleanse², moisturize, and SPF. Everything else—my vitamin C, retinol, and other serums and acids—are a bonus, that I still use most days. But on tough days, I can handle those three steps without guilt.

Creating an MVP—or MVR— isn’t about just cutting something down to the fewest number of steps possible. It has to actually meet those most basic requirements set. If I don’t moisturize or cleanse or apply SPF, for example, I’m not getting those self-care benefits. My skin is either not clean or not moisturized or not sun protected, which doesn’t feel like I’m really taking care of myself. While omitting one or any of these would technically reduce the scope of this routine even more (and therefore making it even more minimum), it’s not really viable for my life.

This is a good moment to state what might be obvious: what is minimum and viable for me might not be what is minimum and viable for you. I personally am okay with leaving a few dishes in the sink overnight. I don’t love it and I’d prefer to not do it, but deep down, I am okay with it.

When I’m designing my MVR for nightly cleaning, I might say that pots and pans and my son’s cups need to be rinsed and soaking, but maybe they don’t always need to fully be washed.

I know a lot of people who can’t go to sleep with even one dish in the sink. In this case, we’d have different parameters around what minimum and viable is for that routine. And that’s okay.

Actually, that’s not only okay, but it’s the only thing that makes this work. If these MVRs aren’t tailored to our exact preferences, this completely breaks down. I can mostly always convince myself to do what’s minimum and viable as long as I am the one who buys into it. The moment I tell myself all dishes need to be cleaned every night because that’s what the internet says I should strive for (when that’s not something I care about) is the exact moment where this all falls apart.

There’s also something to be said about omitting something from an MVR. I don’t care about making my bed, even though it’s nice when I do it. That won’t find its way to my MVR in this stage of my life. Maybe one day, though it’s doubtful³. That doesn’t mean I don’t ever make my bed, but I’ve taken the pressure off of having it be front and center in the routines I am tracking. If it happens, great. If it doesn’t, no skin off my back.

I set a goal to read more in 2025, but at this point in my life—and with all of the other competing MVRs—reading every night is just not viable⁴. And having a structured approach to reading isn’t part of my minimum viable version of my life. I’d love to read more, but for me, not having a reading routine is actually the best way to take the pressure off this hobby.

That doesn’t mean I forgo reading altogether, but it means I don’t take a routine or disciplined approach to it and rather allow myself to treat that one as a true hobby—something that doesn’t need routine or rules right now, that I do as I see fit, and if I’m unhappy with how frequently that’s happening I reevaluate.

I started running my routines through this framework because I realized there was too much I wanted to do. This also helps me see what may be important in various seasons. If I get to a point where I want to get more serious about writing, I know I can adjust the scope of what an MVR is—I also know I’ll likely need to make something else in my routine smaller to compensate. It helps me get honest about what’s important to me, makes me ask why it’s important, and while I still can never “do it all”, this helps me do a lot of it all. Or, if anything, it helps me change my definition of ‘doing it all’.

I started this exercise because I wanted to find a way to “have it all,” but what I’ve realized is that having it all isn’t about doing it all—it’s about focusing on what matters most and then finding the actions that will help me get there. The Minimum Viable Routine gives me a way to stay aligned with my goals, without losing myself in the process. And while I hate to admit I actually learned something applicable to my life from my career, here we are, with a framework that’s actually pretty useful (though I can’t promise I’ll share this with the folks on LinkedIn any time soon).

Since adopting these MVRs, I’ve found I’m more productive and consistent and less overwhelmed and defeated. Writing feels enjoyable again instead of another task I need to figure out how to schedule and check off my to do list, and I actually have a skincare routine worth doing every day. I’m doing less but still getting more done, and I no longer feel guilty about skipping things that don’t truly matter.

Is there a part of your life you’re overcomplicating? What would your MVR look like? I’d love to hear about how you’re approaching your routines.

1. While I coined this term in my head, a quick Google search shows me that many others have written about the idea of a Minimum Viable Routine/Life/Everything. It seems having an original thought is few and far between over here, lol.

2. Micellar water counts!!!!!

3. Here comes my mother in the comments making a joke about how I never wanted to make my bed as a kid either

4. Let me see your screen time, you say. It’s not great but getting better, and that’s a post for another day. IMO, viable doesn’t mean changing over night to fit everything in. So yes, while I could find an extra 10 minutes to read each day, the stress of adhering to that time is more of a headache than not doing it.