Here’s something: your morning routine doesn’t have to be a route march every day. It can be a meander.
Lately when I chat with people, I try to ask about their morning routines. I frequently get a “huh” or “a whating what?”accompanied by a blank stare. I explain that a morning routine is simply what we do every morning, how we do it and the order in which we do it. Whether we’re aware of it or not, we all have a morning routine. Generally, as a rule, we do the same things in the same order, even if we don’t notice.
Waking up, going to the bathroom, starting the coffee maker, and letting the dog out is a morning routine. So is waking up, lolling about in bed scrolling through Instagram, and checking emails, before realizing you’re going to be late, throwing on some clothes, jumping in your car, then applying make-up in the Starbucks’ drive through line.
One of our goals with this project is to become more mindful and aware of our morning routines: what’s working, what isn’t, what could bring more joy, productivity, calm, or other benefits. I’d like to draw your attention to the presence of ideals beyond productivity.
While effective time management and increased productivity could mean more time for relaxing and enjoying life, often it just means trying to squeeze more busyness into our days.
Part of the driving force behind my morning routine is to set myself up for a great day of getting my stuff done. Key words: setting myself up for a great day.
We are human beings, not automatons. Yes, we need to get that bread or make the donuts or whatever our particular hustle may be. But we also need to be.
I recently read an essay in which the author expounded on his morning program, which begins at 4:30 am. He distilled the essence of each of his activities as setting him up to “win” his day by having multiple “wins” throughout the day. While I’m happy for him, his daily 5:30 a.m.-one-hour workout and his acolytes who subscribe to the same schedule, the article left me feeling exhausted and sad.
By his standards, I probably wouldn’t be winning many of my days. Not only is that metric far too binary—in seeing the day as something that must be conquered and “won,” anything that falls short of that is, by default, a day that is “lost”-- but also, I’m not a very competitive person.
I, and my skills/talents/quirks, do not thrive in a competitive environment. My early experience on Little League’s losingest team may have contributed to this. I sucked at softball, was terrified of the ball, way tinier than my teammates and simply didn’t enjoy it (I hated it, actually.). The few compulsory innings I played each game were more about doing cartwheels and dance routines in the outfield. Despite taking gymnastics for a very long time, I had zero desire to prime myself for competition. I just liked doing cartwheels. This lack of competitive spirit was a foreign concept to my football coach father (who is the son of a baseball coach). We lost so many games I’m now conditioned that any other outcome is an unexpected thrill.1
As far as I’m concerned, the real winner of any game of Cards Against Humanity or Telestrations is the person who laughed the hardest. Who’s having the most fun is a game I can get behind
But still, nobody really likes losing.
So why set yourself up to feel like a loser by framing your days as win/loss?
There are ways to support and nurture yourself for a successful day that don’t involve four and half hours of hard work before you clock in for work-work at 9am.
That routine will be different for each one of us, and helping you explore options and figure that out is also one of the goals for this project.
In keeping with our theme of “presence” this month, I propose the simplest ever morning routine activity: just chill. Don’t do anything.
Set a timer and sit your butt down
Let me explain.
I was touching base with Peggy, my pre-pandemic life coach. She is the entity responsible for turning me on to the value of a morning routine. I asked about hers. She came back with this:
“I’m back in the Colorado mountains and my morning routine now consists of taking a cup of coffee out to the hot tub and enjoying time out on the deck, smelling the aspens and pines, listening to birds, and looking at the beauty all around me. My morning time has become much less regimented and more peaceful and still. I practice feeling appreciation and practice a bit of heart-centered breathing. I sip my coffee and just know that I don’t have to do a darned thing to be loved and accepted and worthy.”
Shhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.
(That’s why she’s a life coach.)
I could do that, I thought. I just need a deck, a hot tub, and a sprinkling of aspens and pines.
But then, I suppose I could make do with some live oaks and stalky basil, or even wild foliage poking out of the holes in my neighbor’s disintegrating garage door.
Here’s my plan, and I invite you along for the ride: every morning for this full moon cycle (July 23-Aug 22), I’m going to spend a few minutes staring into space. Not into any screen, (except maybe a screen door if it’s raining outside), not at my to do list. Not reading.
Not doing a darned thing, as Lifecoach Peggy would say.
I’m going to set a timer for 5 minutes, sit outside, drink my tea, engage my senses, give my mind permission to go wherever it wants and be grateful to be alive.
And be grateful to be alive. That sounds like winning.
I have shown a small tendency to get in touch with my competitive side during Jeopardy, Pictionary, and similar trivia/board games.