Procrastination is my middle name. I’m a real pro at procrastinating. I’m almost as good as my husband, who used to claim that he’d procrastinate if he could just find the time to get around to it. Our habits seem to have this way of digging deep into our psyches. In fact, some become so entrenched that they even come to define who we are. But the thing about habits is that they can be altered if we care enough to invest time and energy into positive change.
I got up this morning determined to blog before I did anything else, but the best-laid plans do oftentimes go awry. It wasn’t for lack of trying, but I somehow couldn’t make any ideas fall into place. So, I went for a walk, focusing on the bird song that accompanied me every step of the way. And trees dancing in the breeze. And several puddles that glistened in the sun. And the neighbor’s field appears to be lying fallow, growing wildflowers and a variety of weeds instead of the usual crops of corn or soybeans. This reminded me of a book I read several years ago in which the author observed that one of the best ways to know what kinds of fertilizer to use is to study the weeds that seem to appear out of nowhere. The amazing thing about the weeds, however, is that they indicate which elements are missing from the soil and, if allowed to grow over a period of time, actually supply the missing nutrients. Nature’s version of a renewing sabbatical.
Once back home, I emptied the dishwasher. I dislike emptying the dishwasher for some reason. It isn’t a difficult task, but even so, I can put it off for days at a time, preferring to hand wash the dirty dishes rather than putting the clean dishes away. After sitting in my blogging chair and staring out the window, I eventually went upstairs and got a baby blanket ready to quilt. Then, I made a cup of tea and settled in to watch a rerun of Midsomer Murders while I quilted. Fortunately, the storyline got me thinking about habits and routines.
Habits, of course, are repetitive patterns of behavior that become deeply ingrained over a period of time. Some are harmless, some are negative, and some are positive. My morning walks have become a positive habit that, if missed, leaves a hole in my day. Blogging has become a habit of sorts, even though there is also a degree of intentionality involved. My blogging has become a form of meditation, of doing a 10th step (taking a daily moral inventory of myself), of praying since my blogs tend to flow more easily when I invite my Higher Power to participate.
Gratitude has become a habit for which I am very grateful, as intentionally expressing/thinking grateful thoughts makes the day flow more smoothly. I automatically find myself thanking God for the beauty of nature, a single flower, cool breezes, for the ability to walk, for hot water, left-overs, books, shoes, and comfortable clothing, friends, my family, for the blessing of growing older, for the aches and pains that motivate me to become more attentive and thoughtful of others. The thing about gratitude is that once I start, the list becomes endless. Even the seemingly terrible things that occur with such frequency become the inspiration for positive change and greater awareness, which brings me back to procrastination. Without it, I would not value these blogging times of sitting down, stilling my mind, and allowing a stream of consciousness to flow through my fingers onto the page.