Routines: Tuesday's Reflection

Saturday morning I cleaned the house. Actually, not the whole house. Just the first floor and the stairs leading up to the garret. But actually, not even the entire first floor. I left the kitchen till after I made the first fall batch of applesauce, muffins, and tomato soup. 

After cleaning the first floor, I grocery shopped, along with all the people whose only chance to shop is on the weekends. "Why did I do that?" I asked myself after standing in line for far too long. 

When I returned home, I stationed myself in the kitchen to bake and cook.

I am a hometender and don't mind these tasks. I love having a neat, organized, and attractive home, and I enjoy good tasting food I have fixed myself. 

But why Saturday? I don't always clean on the weekends, but I admit that is often my habit. And I try to stay out of the grocery store on the weekends, but plans change or I didn't think ahead to cover weekend meals. 

I think I still live in a week day/weekend mentality, even though my husband is retired, and my work life is varied and flexible. 

We praise ourselves when we go to a movie in the middle of the week or even more amazing, if we go to one in the middle of the day! Or we laugh about how decadent we are if we meet friends for brunch on a Tuesday, instead of Saturday or Sunday. Neither of us have to consult with anyone  if we want to take a day "off" to go on a day trip on a Thursday, but it still feels a little sinful to do so. 

And if I stay up late (if I can stay awake, that is) to read or watch a movie, I worry that I won't be able to get up at my normal time. I'll "pay" for staying up past my routine bed time. Well, who cares?

Old routines, old habits die hard, it seems. 

Don't get me wrong, I believe in the gift of routines. I know writing first thing in the morning works well for me. Ideas flow more easily if I head to the garret before I get dressed, and then I know no matter what else happens during the day, at least I have had writing time. I also know I need quiet time during the day for meditation and prayer. And I know reading before I go to bed relaxes me.  Taking a walk every day is good for me, body, mind and spirit, but I am afraid that is not as much part of my daily routine. So often I let other "routine" tasks get in the way. 

This is a stage of life, it seems to me, when we can decide the role of routine in our lives. How much do we need routine to dictate what we do and when we do it? Do our routines and habits enhance our lives or are they leftovers from the years when we had to show up at the office at a certain time or get the kids off to school? How much are our habits simply habits? 

I am still a planner, but I try to think about the rhythm of each day, the flow of each week and insert ongoing life tasks when they fit, when they are truly needed. Like paying bills or doing laundry. I have a ways to go, however, before the division between week days and weekend has little meaning. (Do you remember the Dowager Countess, on Downton Abbey, the character played by Maggie Smith, asking, "What's a weekend?)  

Remember the embroidered dishtowels --one for each day of the week--that ordered our days? "Wash on Monday." "Iron on Tuesday." And the week marched on until "Rest on Sunday" finally arrived. I am grateful my life no longer has that kind of rigidity.

Now I try to listen to my body, mind, and spirit. What is it I most want to do? How do I want to use my energy? With and for whom? What am I being called to do and in what ways is God moving with me through the day?

My hope is to live each day in the wholeness, the fullness of time. 

An Invitation
How ruled are you by routine? I would love to know.