When I was a single mom raising two boys and scrambling to make a living, routine was a significant part of managing my chaotic little universe. I might go so far as to say that routine got me through a decade of long and demanding days. Routine was my affordable, accessible ticket to a framework for discipline. And discipline – especially when you’re self-employed – is essential.
Likewise, parenting a pair of rambunctious boys on your own.
But I’m no longer raising kids. Nor am I catering to a live-in partner as I was just a few years ago. And while I might enjoy starting my day by picking up a worn, much-loved book or gazing out the window and listening to the city streets come alive, neither of these activities has taken root as a reliable routine. And more’s the pity.
The Value of Routine
I am reminded by this article in Bustle of the benefits of routine — and among them:
- we accomplish more,
- we reduce stress,
- by being more efficient, we increase free time,
- we procrastinate less.
But there’s so much more.
Routine also makes us feel safe, and if we aren’t feeling safe in life because the worlds we inhabit seem shaky emotionally, logistically, physically or financially — part of my personal story as it is for so many others — creating a structure of activities that you adhere to religiously provides just that. A sense of safety. A feeling of control in a world where real control may be elusive.
And then there’s “flow.”
“Flow” — What’s Not to Love?
We all know that starting – starting anything — is harder than once we are into it. I’ve certainly found this to be true in my life, whether starting a diet, a new job, a new project, a new and challenging piece of writing. But once we have begun? Everything changes, usually for the better — we experience flow, we feel ourselves growing more accustomed to whatever was new and difficult when we first began, we make progress. And making progress feels good, doesn’t it?
I adore the feeling of flow, don’t you? Whether it’s that giddy high during exercise or writing, painting a canvas or a bedroom wall, speaking another language or even flirting in that language… Isn’t it a lovely, immersive, lost-and-found sensation?
I keep telling myself that routine is critical and I must keep trying to successfully install it in this new stage of life, in part because starting the day well sets the tone not only towards accomplishments but flow, the “aliveness” of flow. And I’m just not there. Instead, for months now, I seem to toggle between two writing tasks or two reading tasks or two other activities, able to maintain something approaching a routine for several days or a week. I have yet to productively settle into a new routine that actually sticks.
I’m certain this has affected my discipline. And I know myself well enough to realize that it is in my nature to need discipline. And the fact that I can’t seem to make my first few hours of the day “automatic” impacts my sense of starting with enthusiasm, with focus, and with the kind of purposeful orientation that I’m seeking.
The Wind Beneath Our Wings? Screw That. I Want to Feel the Ground Beneath My Feet.
My current resistance to routine? It isn’t a situation of raging spring fever. It isn’t weariness with existing routine in search of another. My apparent inability to zero in on a workable routine and sustain it seems to be pointing in another direction. It’s increasingly clear that what I’m truly missing is orientation – feeling the ground beneath my feet, solid and sturdy. Meaningful ground. Purposeful ground. A consistent enough base of what is known and comforting so that I can chase my dreams, earn my living by helping others chase theirs, take risks where I need to and free up my emotions enough to… who knows… maybe, just maybe… be open to trusting again. And possibly, to loving again.
There’s no question that since selling my little home a few years ago I have felt disoriented — so much of what I “knew” for the preceding 25 years simply vanished. Of course, my sons are still part of my life, but only in the usual way when young adults “fly” a great distance. They’re off on their own lives now, which is as it should be.
Sure, I recognize that establishing a routine has been tougher due to relocations. Even more so, because of periods when back and shoulder issues have interfered with activities we all generally take for granted (cooking, walking, driving, bathing (!)). In particular, being unable to sit at my laptop for eight to twelve hours a day has hampered me in major ways. That situation, happily, is much improved. Still, my entire life I’ve been able to establish and adhere to routines, to discipline my days and myself to achieve useful ends. So shouldn’t I be able to establish a productive (and pleasant) routine now? Why, over the past three years, has this been so persistently and painfully problematic?
Routine Is My Gift From Me to Me. Why Can’t I Give It to Myself?
Why am I fighting myself over this pursuit of something that I perceive as helpful? Do I actually need a specific routine as much as I think I do? Am I the only one who feels somewhat lost without a routine, especially as I start my day? What if I had two or three or four alternative routines for my morning hours, which are always my most productive? Would that work just as well?
Is “routine” as valuable as I think it is? Just because it served me in the past, does that mean it must serve me in the same way now? Is my need to make certain activities automatic — familiar activities — critical to freeing up my mind for undertaking and better processing change?
Here is my morning frustration as an example, just today. As I was sipping my coffee, I was restless in the front room by the window – that was a no go. I was disinterested at the thought of writing in my journal – another no go. I looked outside and considered an early morning walk – I need my back to loosen up first, so that was also a no go. I thought about picking up a book I set down nearly a week ago — right, a no go. I thought about the morning news — again, a no go. And I thought about coming here, to pour out my first thoughts over coffee, and that felt OK, for now, for today.
Empty Nest Changed Everything… More Than I Realized
I’m wondering how much this has to do with being laid off from the job of Mother, and my sense of purpose in that role. Over the past few years of empty nest as I’ve tried to create a new life for myself, I’ve struggled with establishing a workable routine. Part of the struggle, I know, is the absence of a “regular” job; freelance writing and project work almost guarantees that routines will be short-lived. Nonetheless, I’ve always had a personal routine to begin my day. But lately, each time I think I’m in the groove (hooray!) I soon find I’m not — and so I continue to search for the advantages that I once took from pursuing very specific tasks at very specific times, day after day.
I’m woefully, wistfully in search of a new routine.
In the past few weeks alone, what I thought was a morning routine of quiet listening has already yielded to my more usual tug of war among multiple possible activities – right here, writing or performing technical tasks behind the scenes; writing in my journal by hand, which is something I have done for many years; reading the newspaper, listening to the news online, watching the news on cable; checking emails and responding where needed; spending an hour reading for pleasure, or tinkering one of my own bits of writing, also for pleasure; getting straight to a bit of exercise after my morning coffee… So many possibilities that I mentioned above, cycled through as options and discarded.
Choices, choices, choices…
When “We” Is Easier Than “Me”
But these weren’t choices during the 25 years I was raising children, and especially in the 15 or so that I was raising them alone. Throughout those years, my discipline, productivity, energy, enthusiasm — my everything was focused on my sons. I had a purpose — keeping a roof over their heads, keeping them safe while allowing them to find their own way, instilling in them a set of values I believed would serve them well, making sure they kept their noses to the grindstone to get into college – on scholarships – and get through. Being there when they needed me — at any age.
Everything else took a backseat.
To the extent that I was taking care of my needs, it was only so that I was certain to be there for my sons.
And what I realize is this. Discipline in the service of others? No problem. Yet when I’m trying to do “the best” for myself, only for myself, I am more lax, less determined, less kind. I suspect this is true for many women. This is something that I need to change, that I should have changed years ago: I need to make myself number one, and I struggle with the concept much less its execution.
I welcome your thoughts.
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Great article as usual. I tried the Miracle Morning routine for a little bit and it really made a difference to my well being and sense of purpose starting the day. But lacking the discipline to stick to it I lapsed into a no routine routine. I know returning to it would really help, particularly dealing with so much upheaval in my life, yet good intentions don’t translate into deeds, until one day they actually do.
Miracle Morning. I had never heard of it, but there’s plenty online describing it. Thank you for the mention!
I considered myself ultra-disciplined. In college, I started working out first thing in the morning, something I kept up until my kid started taking the bus to high school in town. The bus meant getting up so much earlier. Getting up early was never a problem for me–I’d happily rise at 6 to work out. I even did 45 minutes on the exercise bike every morning while pregnant. But suddenly I couldn’t do it. I’d read the news, then putter and work, and finally go for a run mid-day. But after a knee injury, even that fell away. Like you, I very much miss going to work every day. I don’t miss working 12, 14, 16 hours and eating all my meals in front of my computer. I don’t miss the abusive bosses. But I very much miss my dedicated colleagues with whom I shared so many interests. Is it depression? Possibly. Routines help keep us healthy in mind and body.
All good points. (Nodding, nodding…)
What you said about lack of orientation resonated with me. In my case, I would express it as lack of a role, a direction. Your use of the word “purpose” several paragraphs later brought me to that place again.
For me, there are always priorities, but they are increasingly loose, and without context, at least on the surface. There are flash fires that prioritize themselves. Immediate survival needs more or less prioritize themselves after that. But now you are getting into a gray area. Long term survival, and meaningful life, depend on relating to an ever changing, ever more complex world. Discerning the direction of the world is hard enough. Discerning our individual implications – in terms of practices, meanings and roles, is even more difficult. No wonder we feel we are without a map…
On a daily level, having routines for the routine frees up some mental (and maybe intuitive?) bandwidth for the more amorphous parts of our lives.
Your reference to priorities and flash fires, very different from purposeful work or activity, reminds me of this discussion on what is urgent vs important. We so often immerse ourselves in “busyness“ and convince ourselves that everything is urgent, when it clearly is not. In so doing, we miss the forest for the trees, in other words time better spent identifying and pursuing something of meaning and purpose. And yes, routine helps structure our time and mental space for clarity. The clarity to better define priorities, what is truly important, what can wait, and so on.