Tales from a Mid-Lifer

Our family thrived on routine. Baby to toddlers – middle-schoolers through high school – and even during college breaks – there were schedules. The older they became, the calendars were less imposed by me and 100% by sports, part-time jobs and school.

When they were little and grumbled about bedtimes, I explained the blessing of routine.

Children need to know what to expect. The repeat of day in and day out sameness builds memories, assures children they are grounded, their parents are reliable, and all is well in their young world.

“It’s boring!” they’d whine.

Maybe, but life is built on consistency. Habits. Patterns.

This truth isn’t exclusively for the young.

We can point to kids, but routine is near-equally imperative for productive, well-adjusted adults. Maybe some can travel willy-nilly throughout their days and at the end of seven have completed worthwhile tasks, exercised regularly and felt purpose, but not me.

If I changed states with school-aged children, there would be an instant network with others and locked-in rituals. Regimen is essential during parenting life and interacting with fellow parents, joining groups and being required in a variety of places is automatic.

At this empty-nest stage? A vastly different experience. My husband is needed in NY more than expected, so just when I set a tempo to the TX days, I’m traveling north for 2-3 weeks. Returning south, I create the new normal alone then husband comes to town and whatever vague system I established is out the window.  

I’m a symmetry-loving, balance-seeking kind of woman and the unpredictability still has me upside down.

Do you recall having the flu or a cold that knocked you out of work and/or withdrew you from most things for a week? Or, maybe you’re one of those people who texts home while on vacation, “I’m ready to get back – I need routine.”

That’s how I feel.

Ironically, I’ve grimaced over the years about how consistent my life was – the act of sameness making me ordinary. Yet, similarly arranged weeks, days and hours are what I crave most.

Not boring but steady. The routines that provide an underlying foundation to cushion the rest of life: the unwanted unexpected that inevitably shows up, along with the joyful spontaneous things we gladly add to our routine days.

Like everything, this season won’t last. After a few big NY events this summer, I’ll be in TX more frequently, where same practices will eventually flow.

In the meantime, I’ve decided to stop chastising my lack of exactly-programmed days and ride this temporary wave of the unscripted unknown. To stop trying to reclaim my former ways and allow the new to emerge.

I suspect that’s what God has been waiting for me to do all along…

Thank you for reading and have a wonderful Monday!

Featured Image: SOURCE (My X over image)