Routine Versus Spontaneity

The words “routine” and “spontaneity” seem to be antonyms. What could be more opposite than “a sequence of actions regularly followed” and “a sudden inner impulse without premeditation”? To me, however, they are not as dissimilar as they first appear.

I have already written about the role routine plays in my life and the benefits I, and others with ADHD, gain when utilising it. Another benefit is that of freeing me to live in the moment. My routines are the foundation on which I build my life. The “sequence of actions” that make up my routines all contribute in some small but fundamental way to me being able to function, whether at all or optimally. If my bed isn’t made, my dishes washed, my clothes clean and put away, I would not be able to act on any “inner impulse”.

This paradox can be likened to a building. It’s a lot more fun to pick out curtains and paint the trim than it is to plan the basement and hammer together the studs and joists for the walls and floors. However, curtains and trim in the middle of an empty lot gets cold and wet, eventually, and does not allow anyone to have much fun.

Balance, as I’ve said again and again, seems to be the key. Routine allows for spontaneity but neither in isolation create joy. This is the careful union of forces I will continue to strive to achieve.

What allows you to create spontaneous joy?

The Paradox of Change

It is relatively easy for humans to maintain the status quo. We like things to remain the same. There's even a section about that in the fundamental level of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Human beings need a certain amount of homeostasis. Even ADHD brains who are essentially hardwired to love change.

It occurred to me recently that the reason or catalyst for positive change is a bit of a paradox. It’s very rare and difficult to force somebody to change, particularly if they aren't aware of or won't acknowledge there's a problem. However, without others to reflect things to us, lots of us would have no knowledge of anything amiss. Like the frog in the pot. The bubbles are rising all around us, but because it happened so gradually, we fail to notice.

On the other hand, it is incredibly difficult and unlikely that anyone will change, even if they are aware of the problem, without the help of any other person. Support of loved ones is often a crucial piece of change for the better. And yet, if others supporting us is the only piece, and we lack motivation, awareness, opportunity, and intent, then change is very unlikely to occur.

Human beings sure are funny, aren't we? And the above paradox doesn't even begin to touch on the conundrum of what even constitutes a problem! One person’s pig sty is another person’s immaculate palace. Though to me, the real yardstick is functionality. Is the person in question doing what they want and need to do? And the answer to that is incredibly complex.

What did it take for you to change?

The Paradox of Accumulative Action

There is a well-known strategy for accomplishing a large task that was first explained to me by the FlyLady. Marla’s essential concept is 15 minutes of decluttering a day piles up over time until before you know it your home is under control. It has many more nuances and helpful layers than that, but that is the core principle.

I have put this into practice in my own life in many ways. Decluttering is one (though I must confess most of my decluttering happens in large, unintentionally overwhelming chunks), knitting is another, and working on goals one step per day. Another way is the restocking list that we use at Ringcrafts to slowly recreate products sold to customers for our next show.

The most fascinating thing about the 15-minutes-a-day principle to me is its paradoxical counterpart. Just as 15 minutes can accumulate to accomplish great things, so can small, inconsequential things wear a human mind down to the point where they are wallowing in a pit, with no idea how they got there.

A critical comment isn't that hard to deal with, for most of us. Or being late for an appointment, once. Or breaking a plate. Or losing your keys. Or hearing of the death of a favourite actor. Or having to cancel time of relaxation in favour of work. All of these things on their own are not noticeably detrimental, in the natural course of things.

What if they all added up? Little things, over time, just poking at us, draining little bits of our energy, wearing down our ability to function. It happens. It happens to everyone, at one time or another. And then what happens if something really huge hits us? What's left in reserve to bring to bear on the new problem?

The one half of this paradox is the other's solution. It does take effort, though, to consciously decide to take that 15 minutes per day for ourselves, to do whatever it is that recharges our ability to function properly. And it takes courage to be honest with ourselves about what that is.

Are you ready for that challenge?