Chapter 1: The Struggle of Morning Routines

For a long time, I took a grim satisfaction in my morning rituals. Though simple, they were built on years of self-help literature about what I “should” do to enhance productivity and success. My routine included the following steps:

• Awaken and chug a glass of cold water.
• Engage in 15-20 minutes of yoga.
• Spend 5-10 minutes meditating.
• Enjoy coffee while journaling three pages of unfiltered thoughts.
• Dedicate 30 minutes to personal learning, whether it was art, coding, or self-organization.
• Write for 30 minutes, transitioning from fiction to blogs to articles.
• Take a shower and prepare myself based on the day's requirements.
• Have breakfast while consuming news or social media, depending on my morning resolve.

Although I occasionally altered my routine based on the latest productivity methods I encountered, the core structure remained unchanged.

While there’s nothing inherently flawed in this approach, I overlooked one crucial question until my therapist prompted me: Why was I beginning my day with activities I disliked? It wasn't that I had an aversion to each activity (yoga and I still maintain an uneasy relationship), but rather that they often felt like chores.

To push through, I would chastise myself, insisting I needed to accomplish these tasks to unlock my potential. I would think, "You want success, don't you? This is what successful individuals do!" In the past, it was about not letting others down. Recently, it morphed into a fear of wasting my fleeting time.

Ironically, while I disliked these activities, I would experience a sense of pride upon completing them—albeit a grim sort of pride, as if I was giving a middle finger to a culture that glorified hustle. Conversely, if I failed to complete my routine, I felt like I had let everyone down.

To track my progress, I turned to habit trackers in Notion or Bullet Journals, striving to maintain an unbroken chain of success as Jerry Seinfeld advised. The measure of my self-worth became tied to a simple pass/fail system based on whether I had broken that chain.

However, my therapist pointed out a significant flaw: chains inevitably break, and that’s okay.

This routine stemmed from a principle my parents instilled in me: "Adversity builds character." It was a foundational belief in my upbringing, filled with metaphors of resilience and tales of triumph over hardship.

Yet, after years of facing adversity, I found myself burdened with high blood pressure, anxiety, insomnia, and depression, among other issues. They neglected to share that part of the narrative when I was growing up, but reading more realistic biographies of my childhood heroes illuminated the truth.

My therapist wasn't the first to suggest life didn't have to be so challenging, but she was the pivotal voice that penetrated my defenses: What if I began my day with activities that brought me joy?

After all, I am not an inanimate object forged in fire; I’m a living being, needing nourishment and positive stimulation. Adversity, or trauma, isn’t beneficial for my well-being.

Consider this analogy: dog trainers emphasize reinforcement over punishment. A dog trained through fear will not respond positively; similarly, I should not rely on punitive measures for motivation.

What my therapist and others have suggested is that perhaps things don’t have to be so difficult. The fear of becoming soft loomed large. Adversity has equipped me with invaluable coping mechanisms; show me a challenge, and I will navigate it in myriad ways.

The concern of abandoning hard tasks stemmed from a fear of losing those coping skills, particularly in a world where stability is elusive. People often hoard resources out of fear of future deprivation.

Yet, I had never considered: what if those challenges were merely missteps on my journey? Perhaps my aversion to my morning tasks wasn't indicative of laziness, but rather a signal from my body and mind that these activities weren't serving me.

Shifting my perspective allowed me to reframe my morning routine.

Instead of the traditional grind, I now start with something enjoyable. My first activity is to read something delightful, often with a cat curled up beside me and a cup of tea in hand. This routine is inspired by Sir Patrick Stewart, who shared his own insights on starting the day peacefully:

“I learned when I was about 60 — and I wished I had learned it when I was younger — I give myself time of day at the beginning…I don’t read the paper because it makes me angry. I don’t read emails because that stresses me…I just read a book. So I know that no matter what happens for the rest of the day, I’ve had a half hour.”

This peaceful start makes it easier to rise from bed. Following my reading, I engage in my side gig, creating articles like this one.

However, I no longer force myself to produce content daily. The notion of adhering to strict writing schedules feels counterproductive. Instead, I treat my writing time like a stroll through a garden—examining ideas, nurturing what’s ready, and leaving the rest to flourish in its own time.

With soft lighting and focus music in the background, I allow myself to explore creatively. If nothing sparks my interest, I start typing playfully, decorating my thoughts with words rather than forcing creation.

This approach diverges significantly from the rigid content calendar system, emphasizing joy in the creative process rather than obligation.

After about an hour and a half of this enjoyable endeavor, I join my partner for breakfast, watching comedic or heartwarming videos on YouTube.

Where did my previous practices go?

I haven't completely abandoned my earlier habits. Occasionally, I still engage in yoga or meditate before work. I even document these activities in my bullet journal, but rather than viewing them as a chain to maintain, I focus on accumulating positive experiences throughout the week.

I set goals for these habits, but they revolve around exploration rather than success or failure—more about how they make me feel than about achieving a predefined outcome.

This practice is rooted in compassion: reading, writing, and laughter.

I’m not suggesting this will work for everyone or that it will always suit me, but it has marked a significant positive shift in my morning routine. If you find yourself struggling with the expectations of what you think you should be doing, perhaps it's time to ask yourself what you genuinely want to do instead.

What do you need more of in your life? Maybe the answer lies in your mornings.

Chapter 2: Embracing a New Perspective

This video discusses reprogramming your mindset to improve your life, offering insights that can help shift your perspective on daily routines.

In this video, the speaker discusses the importance of language and how certain phrases can impact your mindset and relationships.