#comeloro

I have a complicated relationship with routines; something about them has never quite felt right. On one hand, there’s a silent pressure to have one in order to be deemed “productive enough” yet an underlying, pervasive social expectation persists that we must simultaneously rebel against routines as an act of resistance in the name of “self-care.” So, how can this be—can these ideas actually coexist?

My routine and very way of life—like so many others—has recently become one of increased isolation and disconnection. From the rituals it took losing to realize how much I valued them, to the friends I rarely saw face-to-face but somehow would give anything to road trip to now, it’s been interesting to realize how much I miss having the option be both the performer and the participant in rituals like these. Examples include (but are not limited to) going out for coffee, driving to see a friend in another state or town, and simply being able to sit in a movie theater to see that film no one else in your immediate vicinity would appreciate or nerd out with you about—to sit all alone in the dark with just the actors and your thoughts. 

Where do the small joys our routines used to give us go from here? Well, I jotted down some ideas of what I’ve come to value most during this time. It goes:

The small act of putting pen to paper and writing in a notebook

Picking up a forgotten book (or three—I read multiple things at once quite chaotically)

Lighting a candle (extra points for the crackling wood wick kind)

Going for a daily walk outside, even if it’s just for five minutes

Sending a video or audio message back and forth with friends, so you can hear and/or see one another (trust me, it’s so much better than texting or emailing)

Doing a sheet face mask and scaring my boyfriend (Friday the 13th vibes)

Through putting these small rituals—that have become so much more lately—into perspective, I’ve realized that in spite of the world’s temporary shutdown and the subsequent death of the many facets of our previously beloved ways of life, a sort of renaissance has happened; we are finally prioritizing and normalizing restfulness and slowing down. We’ve been forced to pause and have come to remember what it feels like to connect with a routine not as a way to prove ourselves worthy or monetarily-productive, but instead as a necessary mechanism that yields joy and inner-wellbeing.