Sunday, June 26, 2011

The Happy Consolation of My Routines

By nature, I am a person who loves to provoke change. 

I love to create something out of nothing.  Plowing new ground is part of my DNA.  All my life, I have initiated new things.  Whether it is a performing arts program at church, a class reunion, a new program for women’s spiritual life or just a brand new type of therapy group – I love to create something new. Let me build an effective machine!  (God forbid, I do not mean that literally!  My mechanical IQ is beyond embarrassing.)

Even looking at a blank Word document is an exhilarating challenge for me.  There is nothing written.  Soon there will be something. (NO telling whether the “something” will be worth reading, but that’s not the point!)

I chose a profession where initiating personal change is the essence of what I do every day, hour after hour.  And to stay effective in my work (ok… and life), I have to constantly monitor my own internal and external world and open myself to deep personal change.  I put out a lot of energy to provoke change.  Alright.  You get the idea. 

Paradoxically, I am deeply infatuated with my routines.

Aaaahhhhh… my routines.  *happy sigh*… The comfort, the warmth, the grounding, the happy rhythm of my routines.  While instigating change as a lifestyle, there is deep consolation in the nurturing predictability of my routines.  They provide a harmonizing counterpart to the energetic chaos of change.

Every morning in my office before work, I go through the routine of making myself a huge mug (and I do mean huge – a full 32 ounces!) of decaf Constant Comment tea.  I drink its warmth and soothing flavor while seeing my first two clients of the day (usually starting at 7 a.m. – yes, decaf and no, you do NOT want to ever experience me with caffeine in my system… even that early!)

Sunday evenings at 7:00 begins our family’s sacred ritual of watching AFV.  All three of us smashed together on our black leather love seat eat popcorn and pretzels and laugh uproariously at people falling off trampolines and at men getting hit in the crotch. It’s almost spiritual.

Most nights after work, my husband and I drive to the gym.  It is only 15 minutes there and 15 minutes back, but we use that time to find out about each others’ days, hold hands, listen, encourage, give feedback and keep connected – ok… and sometimes have needed spats (I mean “discussions”) – in the middle of the demands of work and family.  That, my friends, is a worthy routine.

Most Saturday mornings will find me doing coffee at Jazzy Bagels in Gresham with my dear friend Ruth drinking cup after cup of their decaf (remember the previous warning?) and eating their sesame seed bagels (or cinnamon raisin – or both – depending on my mood).  We watch people walking their dogs of all shapes, sizes and breeds in downtown Gresham.  We laugh about parenting our unique and beautiful teenage daughters.  We talk about life, family, faith, culture, work – there’s nothing off limits with Ruth.  She is a friend of 29 years and we have both been through hell and high water, together and apart. Ruth is pure gold.  Her insight and personal quality never fail to enrich me.  And how could I not value this routine??

Since I was about 7 years old, I have looked forward to the moment I crawl into bed and snuggle up with a good book.  As a kid, I remember crawling underneath my sheets with a flashlight because I just had to read a little bit more – and it was past “lights out”.  To this day I savor reading a good book before drifting off to sleep.  Most often fiction.  (Well written, pleeease.)  Not usually educational or intentionally for personal growth.  Sometimes inspiring.  Sometimes funny.  Most often just a very good read.   Another routine that brings me joy and happy rest in the middle of demanding days.

Now it’s Sunday afternoon.  I have just initiated something new in writing this blog.  I forged new territory! I created something out of nothing!!  I have provoked change on this empty Word document!!!

Uh-oh. 

I need a routine for Sunday afternoons.

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