People say that getting started is the hardest part of achieving a goal. Like losing weight, writing a book, or fixing the garage door because it doesn’t go all the way up like it used to. You can’t get anywhere unless you decide to begin.
Yet, somehow, we get going each morning. We get things done. We survive what life has ready for us. When you think of it, despite the unsuspecting surprises that pop up daily, most of our lives are very routine. Wake up, get ready, eat, get the kids going, work, work, work, come back home, have dinner, wind down, sleep.
All of us have different versions of this routine. Living alone, as a single person, my routine is very routine. Wake up, let the cat out, watch her catch bugs, drink my vitamins, get ready for work, work, work, work, head home to relax, or meet up with a friend. It all happens again the next day.
Living a routine life makes small changes feel extra special. Like going to a new restaurant you haven’t tried before. One that is recommended and that you have passed by dozens of times. You’ve never gone to it because your favorite restaurant serves your favorite dish. You know you can’t go wrong there, but trying something new can be exciting.
Or waking up on a Saturday morning and deciding that you aren’t going to participate in the day’s usual activities. On this Saturday, you’ll get in the car, fuel up, and start driving. You might stop at the next town to have brunch or a late morning coffee. You might drive to another town just to walk around and sightsee. You don’t know where you’ll stop.
Sometimes, just to change things up during my morning walks, I’ll make my way down through a different neighborhood. See different houses. Hear the sounds of unfamiliar dog barks. You know where you are, but all feels new and unfamiliar.
When I go to the plaza on Sunday nights, I always have the urge to stop at the same taco stand, to visit with the tamale lady and ask her how the week has treated her, to walk the same number of loops around the place.