I’m a routine person. I thrive in a steady, consistent pattern. As a work-from-home writer, my daily schedule consists of morning centering (mediation / prayer / reading), working out, email, first writing session, afternoon break (eating, watching TV, taking a walk, household tasks), second writing session, reading, sleep. I even wear the same “uniform” of Gryffindor pajama pants and a Call of the Wild sweatshirt. I love it.

While having a routine saves me time and mental / emotional energy by eliminating a variety of daily decisions, I’ve found it healthy to regularly break my habits. Like taking a day off each week. Fridays are my Sabbath, where I free myself from normal responsibilities and take time to just rest and play (for more on the benefits of Sabbath, see my post here).
On an occasional basis, more dramatic breaks are needed. While I know how good they are for me, I often struggle to take them. It’s a hassle. The planning. The expense. The effort. The coordination. It’s so much easier just to stay home and stick with my routine. So four months ago when an author friend reached out to my wife Lisa and me with the idea of going on a writing retreat with some other authors, I had a choice to make – was I going to embrace the work involved and take advantage of this opportunity or stay in my comfortable routine? Before I could talk myself out of it, we committed.

Fast forward to now. As I write this, I’m sitting in a recliner in a Log Castle (yes, that’s actually what it’s called on vrbo.com, and yes, that’s an accurate description) on Whidbey Island off the coast of Seattle gazing out at the water watching seals swim by. It’s every bit as wonderful as you might imagine. We’re here with three other writers, old friends and new, all working on our various books, sharing meals together, talking about the joys and trials of author life, playing poker, and generally having a lovely, relaxing, and productive time. I can feel myself recharging in a way that just doesn’t happen in my normal routine. The planning, expense, and effort have been more than worth it.

What’s your relationship with routine? Is it a friend or a foe? Does it come naturally or is it a struggle? Look at your life and save yourself some hassle – automate the important and ritualize the regular. But once that time and energy saving routine is in place, schedule times to break it. You’ll be glad you did. And you’ll take another step toward Becoming Yourself.






I never forget to eat. When I wake up in the morning, then around noon, and again in the evening, my growling stomach reminds me that my body needs food. Consistently filling my physical tank comes pretty easily, but I often loose sight of the fact that I have other tanks as well. An emotional tank. A relational tank. A spiritual tank.
I recently sensed a dryness in my spiritual tank during an intense week I spent finishing the rough draft of my first novel. The work was going well but left me feeling drained. After running some errands, I had just gotten back to the apartment where my wife
Changing my plans, I left the apartment and walked down to a local art gallery. I spent the next half hour just soaking in the beauty of paintings and sculpture. Something about the nature of art has a spiritual component that feeds my soul. I’ve learned that for my spiritual tank to be filled, I need to regularly focus on things that are beautiful. Prayer, spiritual writings, silence and solitude, and spirit-focused gatherings are all helpful too, but taking in beauty is a key practice for me. I left the gallery feeling recharged and at peace.
What feeds your soul? What type of beauty fills your spiritual tank? Maybe it’s a walk in nature or listening to moving music or viewing great art. Whatever it is, I encourage you to start by taking 4 minutes to
As the deer pants for streams of water,
Why, my soul, are you downcast?
By day the Lord directs his love,
Why, my soul, are you downcast?