Routines

I hate routines.. I hate them with such passion.

I keep telling myself to get into habits – any. But I won’t. I hate it. Unless I am emotionally involved in something I’m not going to do it. I hate it.

I’m scared. I’m scared I’ll fall into a routine again as I keep doing for years and years on end.

I do terribly.

I’m trying to be organised for the first time in my life.

It feels great!

I’ve never been organised! I felt a mess and it showed.

I’m panicking.

I’m panicking that I will get into a routine and won’t be able to get out of it; that I will be oblivious to what is going on around me and it scares the hell out of me.

 I’m worried. I’m worried that I’ll do my very best but it still won’t be enough. I keep wondering what different people in my position would do differently. What is good or bad. Or rather I should think in the ‘grey’ area – whatever that means. What ideas would they have different than me. Why won’t these ideas occur to me!

Why won’t they?!

I don’t want to get into any routine. I don’t want to have a listless life – it sucks the soul out of me and I become a stranger to myself. I hate it. I really do. Everyone does too.

I don’t want to wake up one day – 20 years from now and realise I haven’t accomplished anything. I don’t know what I want to accomplish but I don’t want to get set into a routine. I don’t. But I will.

I want life to have meaning. I want to see everyday with eyes anew. To be curious and look forward to everyday and not see the days roll over and die. I need colours.

I need to be joyful that the sun has risen, to be in awe to how blue the sky is, how green the grass is, how comforting the sound of cars is, how merry the talk of children is.

I don’t want to ignore these things. Small things but big things. The kind of stuff which make the world go round – which makes each moment count even if it’s not a pleasant one.

I don’t want to be a whiny, negative person. I want to see the colours even if it’s black and grey outside.

But what if routine kills all?

What if I become ‘settled’ and forget to look at the stars at night and forget to treasure the gentle breeze or the comforting sound of rain or the butterfly’s fluttering wings because I’m too engrossed in something – anything which is not worth thinking about.

Why can’t I simply enjoy the simplicity of life without any expectations? Less is more.

I don’t want to lose myself from myself. Whoever ‘I’ is. I don’t want to get lost in routine.

But how?


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Illusions of Reality

Today I’m writing about some of my greatest fears I used to have as a child which haunted me. It’s about what reality was to me. I’m writing because reality is a question to most – if not everyone.  Unfortunately it is something we will probably never have a real answer to and that sometimes it is best to just live life and stop asking questions. I remember one day asking someone if I was still dreaming (as far as I recall, I was awake) and I was not answered but given a very strange look. I realised it’s not the kind of topic I should talk about.  I held various theories of how we exi st but I had no idea which was true. First and foremost, do I exist or is this simply a dream? If this is a dream what is reality? Is reality a world of monsters and cannibals (hence one of the reasons why I'm a vegetarian)? Or, does everyone know what the ‘truth’ is but me and one day someone will tell me that this world is a joke and I’m on candid camera. Yet what is reality...
Read more

Mirrors

Image
I think mirrors are a curse and a blessing, each existing at the same time yet separately.  Although you own your face, you never see it. The thing is that it is one of the first aspects people notice and form their impressions upon (some, illogically). In truth, you have never really seen your face - save from the reflection of a mirror. Mirrors show you your face but it doesn’t always feel like your face. Sometimes the face looks strange; as if the face staring back at you is a complete stranger. Personally, I keep forgetting how my face looks like. I can remember other people’s faces but never my own so I have to keep looking at mirrors to remember. Lately I’ve also got in the habit for looking for blemishes – amongst them, wrinkles and wondering how I will look like in a few years time. Joy. In Kenya there were days I never looked at a mirror because well, there weren’t any. It felt unnatural and as if I were missing out from something. My face had become completely forg...
Read more

Finding Neverland

Image
I've realised I've been sucked up in a whirlpool. I've been sucked up in routines and I’m drowning – but not yet, not quite. I've been slacking a little (so much for making the most of each day - what a joke) my brain doesn't feel fresh anymore. It feels as if it's rotting; decomposing. Please brain please stop feeling dull... Also please stop feeling emotionally drained. I work with children. Despite the ups and downs I absolutely love them. I absolutely love the vibes children send off – their innocence and their curiosity, their merry laughter and their playfulness. I feel that I can forget all of my woes, and that somehow I’m a child again. In all honesty, I still consider myself a child at times and I  don't want to ever grow up. I want to be the female version of Peter Pan. Still looking for my own Neverland however. Help? Enough rambling. But yes, I need to somehow sort out my life, my mind, my room and my files (not the fli...
Read more