A Tranquil Angle: Progress Not Perfection, Rituals Not Routines
Over the years, I’ve had plenty of (what I would consider) bad habits: cigarettes, alcohol, sex, sugar, social media, overeating, overspending, and people-pleasing.
During my active participation in those bad habits, my life was more or less void of any positive routines; making my bed, brushing my teeth, intentionally going to sleep, eating healthy, exercising, staying hydrated, calling my parents, etc.
Occasionally, I would get on a kick to run for a few days in a row or go on a juice cleanse, but would quickly be derailed by some excuse or the lack of immediate results. I was constantly looking for a quick fix. Do other people relate to that? I felt overwhelmed with the thought of shifting my life.
Getting sober, on-going work of the 12 steps, and becoming a proud, card-carrying member of Alcoholics Anonymous was a step I took about 7.5 years ago and the program has consistently instilled in me the idea of progress not perfection.
Defined as “one’s courage, willingness, and commitment to the process of growth [in recovery from alcohol addiction], this simple slogan has been helpful in the non-linear journey of recovery, reminding me my ‘bad habits’ weren’t really my problem — my problem was the mindset around changing them!
I would vacillate between thinking that either I couldn’t break my bad habits, or I had to break them ‘perfectly’, or break them all at once. It’s no surprise I was overwhelmed.
Taking a page out of James Clear’s Atomic Habits, I began a simple ritual: each morning make coffee, write five things I’m grateful for, and journal for 15 minutes before getting on my phone.
This felt good. So I kept doing it.
I enjoyed the ritual of grinding the coffee beans. The smell of the coffee. The sound of the felt tip on the paper. The emptying of the detritus in my head onto a page!
My days began with a sense of purpose and clarity vs. the stubborn lethargy and inconsistency I was used to experiencing. It was easy to fall into a continuous, reliable ritual without considering it a routine.
Some days, I wouldn’t journal and that was OK. I wouldn’t beat myself up over it. The next day (or the day after) I would resume. I enjoyed it. It was easy to pick it back up.
However, when I have attempted to consciously establish routines, my brain moved too fast, searched for meaning, and struggled to cooperate: do the dishes, fold and put away clothing, make the bed. These seemed mundane and without purpose. I’m sure I’m not unique in this!
Thich Nhat Hanh said it best:
“If while washing dishes, we think only of the cup of tea that awaits us, thus hurrying to get the dishes out of the way as if they were a nuisance, then we are not “washing the dishes to wash the dishes.” What’s more, we are not alive during the time we are washing the dishes. In fact we are completely incapable of realizing the miracle of life while standing at the sink. If we can’t wash the dishes, the chances are we won’t be able to drink our tea either. While drinking the cup of tea, we will only be thinking of other things, barely aware of the cup in our hands. Thus we are sucked away into the future — and we are incapable of actually living one minute of life.”
Only by considering the ritual in these seemingly mindless tasks have I been able to unearth the beauty and value in them: the feeling of the sheets between my hands, the shape of the hot water cascading over the dishes, rolling and stacking my shirts in a drawer. The little things!
In bypassing the idea of a developing a routine and, instead, embracing a consistent ritual, I’ve been privileged enough to establish some good habits where bad ones once existed.
My rituals exist in a constant state of progress.
Onward!
Love y’all.
