Start the Day Well

 This week's quote reads, "If you start the day with a laugh, you've already won it."

A nice thought, and I'm sure it does make a difference, if you can do it. But there is not always something to laugh about. I have a very particular morning routine, which I've followed for a good long while, which works for me. I've blogged about it here. Sitting in silence, walking in nature, and writing are the key elements of my own start to the day. I know how lucky I am to be able to organise my morning to suit myself (and of course, I can't, always, like on a Tuesday, when I have to be out of the house at 7.30 am to look after my grandson). But on the days I can, it sets me up for the day. 

Of course, it suits me, but will probably (okay, almost definitely) not work for you, because you are not a Unitarian minister and writer in your mid-sixties with my particular interests....

Nevertheless, I would argue that having *some* kind of routine is beneficial, if only for self-care and self-nourishment purposes. All of us have some habits - things we do automatically without thinking about them. However, we need to make conscious choices about these habits, so that we drop the ones which are not nourishing us, and make a stringent effort to cultivate those which are nourishing us. Easier said than done....

I first became aware of the power of habits when I read Gretchen Rubin's book, Better than Before, and her follow-up book, The Four Tendencies, which I have blogged about here. Again, it's horses for courses, and my regimented, disciplined start to the day may not suit you, but it works for me. And it's more reliable than finding something to laugh at!

Which habits help you to ease yourself into the day? I would advise you to think about it, work out what is important to you, then try to implement a routine.... your body, mind and soul will love you for it.

Step by Step

Paula Modersohn Becker wrote, "Do not try to skip steps. If you have a long way to go, do not run." Such good advice.

Because it can be so tempting, when we start something new and exciting, to forge ahead with all our strength, and then run out of steam and enthusiasm a few weeks down the line. Or at least, that is what I have found. 

In her wonderful book, Better Than Before, Gretchen Rubin divides people into 'sprinters' and 'marathoners'. She writes, "I'm a Marathoner. I like to work at a slow and steady clip, and I dislike deadlines - in fact, I often finish work early.... Sprinters prefer to work in quick bursts of intense effort, and they deliberately wait for the pressure of a deadline to sharpen their thinking." I am definitely a Marathoner. 

And that was true in physical terms as well as ideological ones. When I used to run, I far preferred the slow, steady plod of distance running to the short, sharp shock of sprinting.

Rubin acknowledges that both approaches can work well; it depends on your personality. I much prefer the slow and steady approach. For example, my writing habits. Some writers, who work full time, can only find the time to write at weekends. They will spend a whole day doing nothing else, and their output on that day will be phenomenal. Then they won't have time to write again until the next weekend. Whereas I prefer to write for an hour each morning, producing between 500 and 1,000 words a day. And get up an hour earlier in order to find the time to do so.

But neither of us skip steps. We each tackle the task in front of us, at a pace that feels comfortable. The process of writing a book is necessarily a long one. I have heard of writers who write the scenes and chapters that come into their heads, and then settle down to fill in the gaps between them. I could never do that. 

The same applies to writing a service. I might be inspired by a particular reading or a particular theme, but I always follow the same process: I find the readings and prayers, the chalice lighting words, opening words and blessing, choose the hymns to fit with them, and then, only then, do I write the address.

I guess it doesn't matter what your overall approach to getting a task done is; the important thing is not to skip steps.

Discipline vs Indulgence

Over the last few weeks, I have been uneasily conscious of the fact that I have been letting things I ought to do, and actually enjoy when I'm doing them, slide, in favour of reading, doing a jigsaw on my iPad, or just watching TV.

Not that there is anything wrong with reading, jigsaws or TV-watching, but I also wanted to find the time to do things which would nourish my soul: a half-hour sit in the morning, carrying on with my novel, which has been sitting half-done on my computer for months, and doing regular piano practice.

I had been trying to turn the daily piano practice into a habit for some time, with very little success.

Then I had my light bulb moment. I am very much a morning person, a lark rather than an owl, so why not get these things done straight after I get up? Excitedly, I wrote myself a timetable:

0600 - 0630  Get up, shower, get dressed, eat breakfast.
0630 - 0700  E-mails, daily Recognition, check Facebook.
0700 - 0730  Sit / pray
0730 - 0830  Write
0830 - 0915  Piano practice (30 minutes if I have to be out of the door by 9.00)

I shared this idea with a friend, who wrote back: "How disciplined it all sounds but I am sure it is good if it works for you."

And it does! It may sound unpleasantly regimented, and to some extent it is. However, it does mean that I get to spend two and a quarter hours every morning, nourishing my soul. Two and a quarter whole hours of time spent doing things that I like to do, that make me feel better about myself, that make me feel more connected with the world. To me, it sounds like a huge indulgence, rather than a discipline.

Then at 9.00 am (or 9.15 am) I feel refreshed, invigorated, and ready to get on with my day. And without the cloud of "you ought to fit in writing / piano practice some time today" hanging over my head. It's done, and I feel so free!

For me as a morning person, and as someone who Gretchen Rubin describes, in her book 'The Four Tendencies', as a Questioner, this works very well. But I can understand why others would look at my timetable with horror and loathing. It all depends on your perspective, and on your inner tendency.

She divides people into four types: Upholders, who meet inner and outer expectations easily; Questioners, who meet inner expectations, but not outer ones; Obligers, who meet outer expectations, but find it hard to discipline themselves; and Rebels, who hate any kind of expectations.

Before reading the book, I had thought that I was an Upholder. But it soon became very clear that I am a Questioner. Questioners are very good at meeting inner expectations, things they set themselves to do, which make sense to them. But they question all other expectations - especially those imposed by others. They will only do something if it makes sense to them.

So once I had decided that doing these things daily - sitting for 30 minutes, writing for an hour, practising the piano for 30/45 minutes - could easily be fitted in to the first three hours of my day, and would make me feel good, it has become easy to do them.

I would recommend the book to anyone who has trouble with "ought to" and "should" in their lives.

Creatures of Habit

We are all creatures of habit. The other day, the presenter Mark Forrest was talking about this on his breakfast programme on Classic fm. He commented that for him, the first cup of coffee of the day has to be in a particular mug, and sitting in a particular chair, otherwise it doesn't feel "right". The location and receptacles of the rest of his drinks for the day don't matter to him, but this first drink is special.

And I am much the same - I don't mind about which mug I have for breakfast, but my morning routine is unvaried: rise, shower, dress, then breakfast, sitting at the kitchen table, the same meal every day - mug of coffee (two sweeteners), bowl of Fruit & Fibre (same bowl every day), glass of breakfast juice. It is my way of easing into the day, of bringing myself up to speed.

Having a daily routine is not a bad thing, so long as we drive it, rather than it driving us. Certain things need to be done daily, or weekly, or whatever, and having some sort of routine can help with this. But I think we also need to leave some space for the unexpected, the new, the unusual, and not be so bogged down in our everyday routine that we cannot respond easily and quickly, to whatever comes up. It's a fine balance.

Habits can be good for us, or bad for us. For example, good habits might include regular exercise, cleaning one's teeth twice a day, and so on. Whereas bad habits might include smoking, drinking alcohol to unwind in the evenings, whatever. And most of us will sit in an accustomed seat in any particular setting, and be unreasonably annoyed if someone else sits in "our" seat. It's not rational, it's a matter of habit, and we need to be on the watch for habits which cause us to behave less than our best.

It reminds me of the old Native American tale about feeding the wolf, which appears in Rev. Bill Darlison's story collection The Shortest Distance:

"'Why is is that sometimes I feel that I want to do helpful things, but at other times, I just want my own way?' a little Cherokee boy asked his grandfather one day.
'It's because there is a battle inside every human being,' replied his grandfather. 'The battle is between two wolves. One wolf is kind and gentle, full of peace, generosity, compassion, and trust. The other is wicked, full of anger, hatred, greed, selfishness, pride and arrogance.'
The young boy thought for a moment, and then he asked: 'Which one will win the battle inside me?'
'The one you feed,' replied his grandfather."

We are all human beings who have been given free will, and can choose to follow a variety of paths through our lives. The story of the two wolves helps me to remember that I do have this choice, and reminds me to try to follow the best I know, and not to feed the wolf of bad habits.