Every now and then I realise I haven’t been feeling my usual self for a few days. Generally, I’m on top of things but I notice a growing sense of irritation which, if ignored, expands to the point where I feel pissed off and frustrated.
I hang around in that energy for another day or so until a truth hits me: I haven’t been honouring a part of me that deserves to be honoured and now I’m aware it, I know from previous experience things will start to hurt if I don’t rein myself in and offer some love to the part of me that has been missing out.
Imbalance is a human trait. Correcting it can be as easy or difficult as I make it. Most of the people I work with go with the latter option and I will be honest, at times I find myself sitting on that side of the fence, too.
I reflect on a thought I had earlier this week. Addressing imbalance in my life is easier when I do something seemingly counter-intuitive: I turn my routine upside down, shake it up and carefully reconstruct it with intention.
For me, the word routine evokes a sense of structure and progression through time and tasks. Most days I value my routine, I have perfected it over the years.
Other days, I want to dive for cover and hope the routine monster passes by without noticing me so I can boldly ignore all responsibilities and to-do lists.
Even if I do check out for a day or two, I return to routine without needing to give it much thought. My intrinsic human need for certainty and safety inevitably draws me back in.
A well-structured routine helps me gain the most out of my day, maximise productivity and keep the goals within reach… and helps keep me from completely losing my shit in the face of family and societal demands.
On the flip side, routine is also cause for monotony, ‘stuckness’, ‘busyness’, boredom or worse, depression or anxiety if I hold onto it too tightly or what I pack into it fails to inspire me or enable me to nurture myself in ways that feed my soul.
Routines flex in response to just about everything. They’re like shifting sands BUT shifts occur subtly. Because routine is fluid in nature and I react to life more than I’d like to admit, things slip through the net. I overlook aspects of myself or subconsciously toss them to the side, and this is how I end up coming full circle, eventually realising a part of me has been missing out.
I don’t believe it’s possible to juggle all the balls at once. In my world, there will always be a shitload of balls scattered all over the floor but it’s a lot easier to keep things moving in the right direction if I keep an open mind about just how structured my day ‘should’ be.