Routine is a monster I fight with. It is a character in a movie that plays the villain who plans to take over my world. Routine feels like the magician who performs the same trick over and over again and all he does is to replace the rabbit when she ages and dies off. If routine is a friend, it is a friend who talks non-stop in a one-way chat. Routine feels like the icing on a half-eaten cake that no one wants and is left for days on the table because nobody bothers to clear the mess.
Routine is emotional static, it is a retail wall paper, an annoying house music, a nagging toothache, an alarm clock ringing in the middle of nowhere, a discarded can floating in the tides, an old stack of newspaper waiting to be recycled, a cup of lukewarm water in a hot afternoon placed against a poster of a glass of chilled coke. Routine numbs the mind and it makes no apologies about it. Its mannerism is that of an uncouth relative you hardly know insisting that you let him stay rent-free in your bachelor's loft for an indefinite period of time.
If routine has a buddy, it's Mondays. If routine has a hobby, it is tracing the billion numerals of pi or complying with the ancient laws regulating the exact and tedious manner animals are to be sacrificed. And if routine has a religion, I guess it is the religion of the Pharisees who are wholly anal about keeping the Levitical Holiness codes. Next to death, routine keeps you alive for no other purpose than to leave death dangling by your door-post.
But wait...maybe I need to take another look at routine. Maybe routine hides a rustic charm I have overlooked. Maybe routine carries a metanarrative on its hardscrabble back that brings life to the characters in it. Let's rewind a little. Let's count the blessing in masquerade.
If routine is a monster, it is a misunderstood one. It is more like a gentle giant huddling in one corner and hoping for social acceptance. If routine is a movie villain, it is a movie villain with a heart but is born with a face that is less than agreeable to most. And if routine is a magician, he is saving his best act for the last night and his swan song will blow the mind of his audience away.
Routine has no agenda. It has no need for it. It is an open book, transparent and candid. It is an unembellished day following another and another and together they form the resilient backbone of lifetime. It chooses to remain behind the scenes, away from the fabulous and the sensational, and minding its business in the running of a day.
Routine obviously has no peak. But without it, there can be no peaks at all. I mean, we don't drop ourselves out of nowhere into the heart of the festivities. But rather, we advance towards it through the long passage of days and months and even years. If routine is perceived as average, it is only because average is deemed to be the back-breaking labor of passion before the bountiful harvest. If it is seen as dull and blunt, it is only because it is a vintage sword undergoing sharpening. If routine has a buddy, it has to be quiet, stoic perseverance. If routine has a hobby, it is in the faithfulness of the little things in life. And if routine has a religion, it is the religion to be the least amongst all; the quiet doer behind the glamor.
Routine's redeeming quality is also its most elusive one. Under the covers of monotony, routine is the autonomy to make each day count no matter how repetitive things can be. Before the shadow of dread, routine is the determined spirit that casts its own shadows, which at the edge of it is assured hope. And along the ennui of a plateau is the leverage of strength one needs to advance the cause of thriving and resiliency. And routine is the facilitator to all that ends.
So routine is definitely more than meets the eye. It is the journey that one has to take in order to bloom. And if what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, then routine works just the same way. It is every drop that wears the great rock and every pixel that forms a cinematic visual of wonders and art. If only it is viewed in a different light, the boredom in routine would be profoundly transforming. And if treated with parity and respect, routine should bring to the foreground all that is possible and turn it into a purposeful ride of a lifetime. Cheerz.