Webster dictionary defines routine as, "regular procedure or a mechanical performance".
I am a creature of habit. I generally wake up at the same time everyday, eat the same thing for breakfast every morning, (some kind of cereal containing a lot of bran) drink my coffee out of the same cup...You get the idea.
In short, I'm boring. I'm fine with this. I've tried to be exciting and doing different things in the past, and it didn't work out so well. Thus, I have been securely rooted in the idea and thinking that being a creature of habit is fine...I've also found that the more I tell myself this, the more I believe it.
Over the last year I have been through many emotional and physical changes. I have also been operating under the delusion that I can control everything in my life to a certain degree.
I worked very hard to get control of my body. It worked for a while. My body ran like a well oiled machine.However, I found out about three months ago, it didn't matter how much meat I didn't eat or whole grains that I did...sometimes your body just can't resist sickness.
I tried to apply this same process to my friendships and relationships. Again, I found that it doesn't always work. I spent a large part of the year trying to put a square peg in a round hole.
Where am I going with all of this?
I'm getting there.
I am a runner, and being a creature of habit...I always run the same path. From my house down Maxwell, to Commerce, to Northwest, to Harris, through Broadlawn Park, down Mt. Washington, and back home. For the last six months there has been this little patch of sidewalk and road that the city has been sort of working on. When I would get to the little patch of construction I would hop on the curb, and do a little running balance beam sort of thing until I got to the other side. Instead of acknowledging that the construction was there, and revise my path, I integrated it into my routine. Every time I ran, I would hop the curb and think, "I wonder if they are ever going to get this fixed..."
The construction became a part of the scenery. It went unnoticed. Another unfinished area of my life, ignored.
I had gotten so used to it being there that when I went for a run two days ago, I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw that the construction was finished. It took me a moment of staring at the road to pick out what it was that looked so different. Now, what I'm about to say may only affirm the idea that I'm a complete weirdo, but I couldn't run on the sidewalk. I just couldn't make myself do it. I hopped up on the curb, and did my little balancing beam thing, and then...when I reached the other side. I began to cry.
Standing there in the road with no explanation or reason why. I cried like a baby.
Looking back on it, I think I related the fixed road with my inability to change even when my surroundings change. So while I have tried to control various things in my life, I was reminded, once again, that everything will get fixed eventually...in time.