Hanh distinguishes doing a task to get it done from doing it as the point itself: while washing dishes you should only be washing dishes, fully present to the act rather than rushing toward the cup of tea afterward. If you cannot be present while washing dishes, you will not be present drinking the tea either, because the mind will have skated on to the next thing.
Hanh prescribes conscious breathing as a tool to bind body and mind together and reclaim scattered attention: one silently notes the in-breath and out-breath, lengthening and calming them, and can count or follow each breath to prevent the mind from wandering. The breath is positioned as the always-available bridge back to the present moment whenever awareness slips.
Hanh recounts sharing a tangerine with a friend who, while talking about future plans, kept putting segments in his mouth before finishing the previous one, so he was not really eating the tangerine at all. Hanh's remark that he should eat the tangerine he had illustrates how planning or worrying erases contact with the actual experience in front of you.