Returning to Routine

Yesterday morning, I woke up with anxiety...(not the kind where something terrible had happened).

The kind where you open your eyes and your brain immediately starts making a list, and this list was loading fast in my brain.

The dishes.

The laundry.

The groceries.

The bathroom.

The floors.

The fridge.

The blog.

Everything felt equally urgent, which somehow made it feel impossible to know where to begin.

After I made my husband and I coffee, he looked at me and asked,

"What can make today successful?" and what I paid attention to was the fact that it wasn't "How are we going to get everything done?" or "What's stressing you out?"

Just...

"What can make today successful?"

It sounds like such a simple question, but it completely changed the way I looked at the day.

Instead of trying to fix my whole life, I just focused on today. And little by little, things started getting done.

The laundry was folded and hung outside to dry.

The counters were disinfected.

The bathrooms were cleaned.

The fridge was emptied and reorganized.

The groceries were put away.

I had an everything shower.

Answered text messages...(for the most part).

I put on a face mask.

My husband made dinner.

I wrote.

By the end of the day, nothing extraordinary had happened. But I felt like myself again. It's funny because none of those things are particularly exciting. If you had asked me five years ago what made me feel alive, I probably would've given you a completely different answer.

A spontaneous trip.

A party.

A night out.

A reason to celebrate.

Now?

A clean kitchen makes me feel like I can breathe again.

Fresh sheets.

A stocked fridge.

Clean towels.

A candle burning while dinner is cooking.

Watching our show at the end of the night because everything that needed to be done... was done.

I've realized something about myself over the years. When my life starts feeling chaotic, my home usually does too. The laundry piles up. The fridge empties. The counters become cluttered.

I stop taking care of the little things. And because I'm neglecting the little things, I stop feeling like myself. Maybe that's why cleaning feels so emotional to me.

Let's be real, it's never really about the house. It's about what the house represents.

Routine.

Stability.

Presence.

Self-respect.

A clean sink isn't going to solve my problems. But washing the dishes is one way of telling myself, "I'm worth taking care of."

An everything shower isn't just about washing my hair. It's slowing down long enough to take care of the person living inside this body.

Folding laundry isn't just another chore. It's creating a home that feels peaceful to come back to.

I used to think healing looked dramatic. Now I think it often looks like wiping down the kitchen counter.

Or

Making a grocery list.

Changing the bed sheets.

Lighting a candle.

and writing again.