Ever wonder where our little habits originate? I’ve noticed that I created a pattern to my days that makes no sense to me when I look at it, but it gets me from one moment to the next. I wake up, find the paper and breakfast and consume both. Depending on the day, I might grab a bit of a novel to go with the paper. From there, I wander upstairs (sometimes with another cup of coffee, sometimes without) and proceed to go through all the electronic news of the day – my emails, the two boards I frequent, the job searches that run seamlessly through databases. I read news from friends and strangers I’ve grown to admire. Sometimes, I come here and add to the information swirling through the data of the world.
After applying myself to various possibilities, I discover I’ve completed everything for this visit of electronic round robin and go to tackle a different repeating struggle – housework. One day it might be inside while another has me fighting the weeds threatening to take over our gardens. It just cycles like the seasons. After all this is handled, I go about the process of making myself presentable, make dinner and then off to the theater for that night’s rehearsal or performance.
The routine of all this has been keeping me from going crazy. It’s the small things that keep me from counting the days where I’ve felt set adrift. It grounds me instead of feeling like a chore. The clean house gives me an odd sense of accomplishment I’d never felt when we hurry through the motions in effort to get ready for guests. I could now have people over at a moments notice for movies or games. The yard, while not the luxuriant, well-groomed oasis of my parents’ home, is improving by leaps and bounds as the ill-kept pine straw is raked away, the dying plants are pruned back, the dead leaves have been removed from bushes and the transplants from family have started to thrive. I’m not quite sure where it is all going yet, but there is a sense of care taking place.
While I do worry about getting back into the idea of a working day might eventually be possible, this oasis of calm and order seems to be okay for the moment. I don’t want to stay in it, but it has allowed for some things to happen. Items strewn about without a proper home have been filed away, some projects have been finished while others have been queued for next in the line. Possibilities have been considered and discarded or acted upon as the mood fits. And through it all, I think I’m getting to know who I am.