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.
We seem to have landed in January temperatures here in Minnesota, and it isn't even Thanksgiving yet. Snow is firmly on the ground and seems determined to stay with us till who knows when. Given my hesitation about walking in these conditions, even though I have plenty of Nanook of the North outerware, crampons strapped onto the bottom of one of my pair of boots and will soon have walking poles for extra security, strolling through the neighborhood doesn't have lots of appeal.
Still, I know I need to exercise more. I have not been given clearance from my orthopedist yet to return to Curves, and hope that will happen soon, but in the meantime I use the exercycle faithfully everyday--the best exercise for my broken ankle I have been told--but since I sit at my desk and write and read much of the day, more exercise is definitely in order. I am not eager to join a gym (No lectures, please!), however, so what to do?
Yesterday I went to the Mall of America and joined the other senior citizens walking the Mayo Mile. I walked two of the four loops of the mall and left before the stores began to open, feeling quite self-righteous, I might add. I intend to do the same thing today.
Doing this, however, means I have to change my routine, and I like my routine. Very much. My routine these last few months has been to get up at 6 and go straight to my garret desk and write and read while still in my pajamas. Eventually, when I feel like it or because there is someplace I need to go, I use the exercycle, shower, and dress for the day. In the meantime my husband has left the house and gone to his coffee shop "office" to work, and I enjoy the spaciousness of the quiet. Most days I walked in the neighborhood later in the day. That has been a good routine.
That routine was the result of asking myself, "What are you willing to do to make writing a priority in your life?"
But what do you want badly enough to keep front
and center in your life? To make sacrifices of time
energy for?
This Year I Will…How to Finally Change A
Habit, Keep a Resolution, or Make a Dream
Come True, M. J. Ryan, p. 19
One thing is clear to me…You can't do everything
you'd like to do…You must hold on to some things
and let go of others. Learning to make that choice is
one of the big lessons in life.
reallivepreacher.com
I decided it was worth giving up an hour of sleep in the morning in order to work at my garret desk without distraction. That has worked well, and I am moving forward with my book project. However, my body has asked for equal time, and that makes sense to me. I recognize the need and have decided I am willing to make an adjustment in my routine. Making the effort to walk in a safe and dry place on a regular basis and still keep writing time as a priority means establishing a new writing regimen. I am willing to do that. I am willing to establish a new routine. I am willing to exercise my power over routine, instead of letting the routine be in charge.
The Value and Power of Routines
I think routines make us feel secure. Routines help us feel as if we are in charge, productive, and moving towards something as we navigate our way through our self-imposed routines. In one way, having a routine is a way not to think about the next step, but routines are also a way to check in with ourselves and to know if this is a normal kind of day or one in which we are in store for something out of the ordinary. Routines are part of our decision-making about how we want to spend our time. We do this, instead of that. That, instead of this. Routines signal how we live our days, and that gives power to routine.
How important it is to keep asking the question, "Is this where we want to place our power? Is this the way we want to live our days?"
An Ongoing Lesson
The thing is I value spontaneity and flexibility, as much as I value routine and regularity and having a plan. And I am aware of how distractions creep in as the day progresses. What I continue to learn, however, is that when I stay awake, when I live consciously, the need for routine and the need to respond to change, along with the desire to be open and spontaneous are not in conflict. When I stay awake, my body, mind, and spirit live together without conflict for the wellbeing of the whole. How amazing is that!
I don't know yet if this new plan will actually become my daily routine and if it does, how long it will last. I know there will be days when bad weather will keep me home, instead of walking at the mall, and I hope there will be other days warm enough for an outdoor walk. I assume there will be other days when the writing beckons more than walking. This routine will modify into another routine at some point, but I hope that will happen because I am awake and living a conscious life, responsive to the movement of God in my heart.
An Invitation
What routines feed and nurture how you live your days and what routines have power over you? Are there routines in your life that need to be examined or is there a routine in your life that needs to be established? I would love to know.
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| Laundry Time |
What is your routine after you have been away from home for a few days or longer or even when you have just been doing some errands for a couple hours? We recently returned from spending several days with our son and daughter-in-love --a wonderful time, I might add, making us wish once again that we lived closer to each other. However, it is always good to get home.
We like to resettle into home immediately. Without hesitation. We each unpack and before we know it the washer is going. We find places for anything we have brought home with us and put away our luggage. We go through the mail and stack the papers. We water plants, and if it is still daytime and the lawn needs it, Bruce will mow. I may head to the grocery store to replenish milk and other necessities and figure out what to fix for dinner. Before we know it we are each in our favorite chairs, comfortable in our pajamas. We are home --and life goes on.
That's not to say that catch-up time is not needed after an absence. This week, for example, I am huffing and puffing to re-insert myself into the scheduled assignments and readings for the online writing class I am currently taking. And there are bills to pay and a long list of emails that need attention. Yes, I had my laptop and iPhone with me, but I devoted only minimal time to them. Only for the necessities. Plus, I have not seen my Dad for over a week and need to schedule more than phone time with him.
But in this case re-entry does not add up to stressful moments, erasing the pleasures of the recent days. I wondered about that, thinking about past times of return. When re-entry means a return from a trip out of the country there is jet lag to handle and maybe a feeling of displacement. Where am I? What is it I am supposed to be doing now? Did that vacation really happen? Was I really just in Paris a few hours ago? There may even be a reluctance to let go and re-enter.
Several times, when we were trying to sell our house, a showing would be scheduled for just the time we should have been driving the car into the garage. Once returning from a week in Florida, I listened to messages as we disembarked the plane only to discover that we would not be going home, but would have to camp out at a coffee shop because of a scheduled showing. All we wanted was to get home, for once the direction is back towards home getting there, being there, sleeping in one's own bed becomes the goal, and sometimes one's energy is stretched to make arriving back at home possible sooner rather than later. Delays are not appreciated.
Now, however, the schedule is ours. Bruce is not heading back to work the next day no matter what time we arrive home. Now we have the luxury to treat leaving and returning as times in themselves--time to be in that moment of anticipating the days to come or to reflect on the days just enjoyed. There is time to be grateful. To notice the extraordinary in the ordinary.
When we lived at our Sweetwater Farm in Ohio, my heart lifted and I started breathing faster as we approached home. I felt that way whether I had been gone for a week or only a few hours. I felt welcomed by that place as much as I hope we were a welcoming presence in that home for others. I always felt a sense of sacred re-entry there. I feel myself opening to that feeling here and now as well. Thich Nhat Hanh says, "The path around our home is also the ground of our awakening."
I try to remember to express a prayer of gratitude for our safe return, to do that as part of my re-entry routine, but I must admit I am often too distracted by heavy suitcases and bags as I cross the threshold. Later, however, as I re-bond with home, lighting a lamp, turning down the bed, folding the clean laundry, I know I at least sigh my deep thanks for the leaving and time away, as well as the return and re-entry.
An Invitation
Phil Cousineau quotes Trish O'Reilly in his book The Art of Pilgrimage, The Seeker's Guide to Making Travel Sacred, "…you are now back where you started and you have to know you've come full circle." What does that mean for you? Did you bring yourself back with you? Has something shifted for you while you were on the road and if so, how will you keep that awake in you now that you are home? How can you enlarge your circle because of the time you have had away? Are you more aware that the sacred is everywhere? I would love to know.
What a gorgeous day it was! What a shame it would have been to not get out and enjoy it. Minnesotans are always talking about what's ahead of us, as in frigid temperatures and day after day of falling snow and icy roads. We remind ourselves of our dire future, I think, in order to justify our play time. After all, winter is coming and who knows how long it will be before we can put the top down again and wander country roads in warmth and sunshine. (An aside: Minnesotans, myself included, also talk about the coming winter in June, July, and August to show the rest of the world how tough we are!)
This particular gorgeous fall day was a Wednesday and in the middle of the day, the middle of the week, Bruce and I were in his little car heading to a small town along the St Croix river. Ostensibly, we were in search of pumpkins, but really, we just wanted to do what we wanted to do, instead of doing what we thought we had to do when we thought we had to do it. When we returned home, we did what we said we had to do and nobody was the wiser. And what we said we had to do was still waiting for us. I don't even remember what that left till later task was. I am sure I eventually did it or maybe not.
The next night we went out for dinner with friends, and it wasn't even a weekend. A Thursday night. How decadent is that! We had a leisurely dinner in a fun new place and no one thought about the next day and what might happen because we weren't getting ready for it because we were out doing something fun.
A New Time
It is slowly dawning on me that we no longer have to maintain the old routines, especially the ones dominated by the week and weekend division. True, Bruce is still working, but part-time, and his work hours are his own. He can work just as easily on an early Saturday morning, if he chooses to do that, as he can working on a Tuesday morning at 10:00. He is no longer on call --a factor in our earlier life that dictated much of what we could do and when or where we chose to do it.
Still, however, it is easy to live according to past schedules and past demands and obligations. Even though I have not had a regular check-in with the boss kind of job for a long time, I still divide my time into slots -- "work" during the day and "rest" or "play" on the weekends. Even my playtime is slotted, reserving weekends for time with Bruce and our friends and family, and if I get together with my friends on my own I am much more likely to do that on a weekday. In the past I have not retreated to my office to write on the weekends, designating that as a Monday through Friday assignment.
A Time to Change
Why is that? Where did all these self-imposed regulations come from? When we were raising our children our schedules were dictated in large measure by school and their activities and trying to manage fitting in the stuff of life. Later, when we became empty-nesters, our work lives still dominated our calendar. Along the way, however, we developed habits and routines which have been reinforced at least to some degree by what we were taught as children about what was appropriate to do at what time.
At least I don't follow a wash on Monday, iron on Tuesday kind of routine, as previous generations did. I do laundry when the laundry basket is full and I grocery shop when the refrigerator is empty and I don't know what to fix for dinner. I do have a very hard time, however, taking time out in the middle of the day to sit and read. I save my reading time for when I have done everything else on my list for that day--a list, I hasten to add, I create for myself. Often when I finish that list I am too tired to read--or I remember just one more thing I need to do first. Somehow I still manage to read a great deal, but it is a reward for being a good girl and accomplishing my list. Unfortunately, no one is passing out gold stars for such behavior. This view of priorities in my day often means I don't spend as much time writing as I say I want to do nor do I take as much advantage of these beautiful days.
The other day when Bruce suggested we take a drive, I hesitated, my mind flipping through everything I had planned for that morning. I asked myself, "What's the worst that could happen if you set aside your list for a few hours?" The better question, it seems to me, is what is the best that can happen by being spontaneous and staying awake to the richness of what is right now at this very moment?
A Time to Stay Awake
This is a good question at each stage of life, but it is even more crucial as we age and as we set aside our careers and our responsibilities raising our families. In staying awake to what is possible right now and what is calling us right now we continue to participate in the "grand act of self-creation," a phrase I read in a book about changing habits, This Year I Will… by M. J. Ryan. http://www.mj-ryan.com This is a time to look at our habits and routines in a fresh way and to open to what enhances ongoing growth. Who is it we are meant to be right now?
We haven't yet gone to a movie in the middle of the day or even on a weekday evening, and I aspire to that, but I am more apt to pick up a book in the middle of the day just because I want to and I have been known to write a blog post on Sunday afternoon because that's what I want to do. I am challenging my view of when I can do something, but at the same time I am compassionate with myself when I slip into former ways of functioning and thinking.
It looks like another gorgeous day out there, and I wonder how I will decide to live it. My prayer is that whatever choices I make, I will end the day feeling more alive and grateful for the choices I have made.
An Invitation
What choices, habits, routines are you willing to challenge in your life right now? What is the worst that could happen? What is the best that could happen? I would love to know.
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. 
