My New Morning Routine

I’ve blogged here before about my regular/irregular morning routine. Post-election I’ve needed to come up with new strategies in order to save my sanity. I’m not simply going to be able to jump on my bike and ride across the country and lose myself in endless pedaling. At least not for four years.

Before going to bed I organize my thoughts by listing things to do the next day/reminders/etc. A bit of a road map for when I wake up. Some of this list is aspirational, intended to keep something in front of me to work toward. For instance, it took me TWO days in a row to move stuff to the shed. I’ve listed clean and organize shed two weeks in a row and yesterday finally got to doing it. I ALWAYS write down write—even if the morning or day won’t allow for it. I do this because I’m a writer and try to remind myself daily to do the thing—even if just to blog/work on posts, even if, in some cases, it feels too hard. Lately, many things feel too hard.

Before the election I’d write at the top of my to-do: tea, stretch, news.

No longer. I now write just tea, stretch. I’m not going to be able to bury my head in the sand, but I need to find some space away from media, the bombardment of messages. I’ve been able to take a break from news about the war in Gaza, as it is too disturbing. Again, this isn’t about not caring, it’s about caring so much it actually hurts me. It hurts my spirit, soul, my brain. I do not want to talk about it. For my Middle Eastern friends or, during the aftermath of the George Floyd murder, my Black friends, I see you, I empathize with your pain, but I cannot occupy those spaces right now. Perhaps, this is privilege on my part, but I need strategies if I am to cope with the idea of being and existing under an administration that doesn’t make sense, at least to me. Already up is down and down is up.

My post-election routine is get up, start the kettle for hot water for tea and flop down on the floor in a contrite position to form a plank, which I hold for roughly 30 seconds. I do a number of other stretches while I’m down there on the ground. One early morning I went out on the deck and stretched with the sun coming up—until my son-in-law rushed to help me thinking I’d fallen. Sorry, no. By the time I’m done waking my body up, the tea is ready and I take it either to my desk or chair to read—NOT NEWS, but a book about wellness, a meditation, or something generic. I’ll turn on music: spa/message/bird song/sounds of nature/chant/new age—or with the upcoming season almost upon us: Christmas. I want to think of new light coming, a new day dawning—not the end of the world or American carnage.

Again, those in disaster or war zones, I’m sorry I cannot dwell on your misery. There was never anything I could do anyway except mull and worry and send limited donations to Doctors Without Borders or World Central Kitchen. I want to help refugees and those stranded because of Hurricane Helene. Instead I pray and ask the universe to be kind and generous and wish those folks strength to make it through the darkness and trouble they’re experiencing. I know and understand the need to save oneself.

This new routine is not that much different from the old—except I have 20-40 extra minutes instead of listening to the news to now centering myself. Whether pre- or post-election, I could do little to change the world. I only have this one little corner, a literal corner of the backyard deck in my Tiny House, where the difference I make is to read a book to my 3-year-old grandson, hold the baby while Mamma puts on her makeup, or, at work, to grab the door for someone and, while fitting them with shoes, to tell them that this particular one is very cushiony because they need to feel some softness in their life and feet. And, just before asking them if they want to take a little walk on the floor, after tying the laces for them, I run my hands over the sides of their feet and offer a little prayer for them at the same time. This is all I can do for right now.

winter's first snow fall