Hello there!
Introducing a short new series of blog posts titled Softly Speaking. This is my way of putting down thoughts I usually do not say out loud. The kind of thoughts that show up during my walks, or the ones that quietly surface when I zone out while doing chores.
Part 1: The Comfort of Familiar Routines
Lately, I have been finding my way back to my routines and systems.
No, not in that overly motivational, pumped-up “that girl” kind of way. It’s more like slipping into an old and comforting t-shirt, a little worn out, a little faded, but so warm and welcoming, and most importantly, very much mine.
I’ve always found comfort in being organised. I feel great when I know what my day ahead roughly looks like. I make checklists for almost everything – work tasks, errands, workouts, reading, self-care and a dozen other things. If something can be organised, colour-coded, and put into a Notion database, I feel like half the battle is already won.
(And somehow, I always find a way to organise anything on Notion :P)
But beneath this mild obsession with lists and systems, what I truly love is the familiarity of it all.
Waking up around the same time. Drinking my tea from the same cup. Going for my walks at the same time. Following the same skincare routine. Organising my workouts in the same order. Finishing my chores in the same order. And the list goes on. These aren’t extraordinary moments; in fact, they are quite mundane. But they are steady.
And right now, this steadiness feels like a blessing to me.
When things seem uncertain in life, when the heart and mind are a little heavy, when there are too many questions and not enough answers, these routines don’t demand emotional clarity. They do not ask me to be brave or constantly “on the go.” They simply ask me to show up and do the next small thing. And somehow, that feels beautiful. It makes me feel like I am enough.
There is something deeply calming about the familiarity that routines bring. They quietly remind me that time is still moving, that days are passing, that life is continuing.
By no means do I achieve everything that I plan each day. Some days, I do the bare minimum and call it a win. And that is okay. Strangely, these routines are my way of telling myself, “I cannot make sense of everything right now, but I know that this works for me.” And that, honestly, feels grounding and liberating.
Maybe that’s what routines really are for: not rules to follow to the T, but quiet places to rest and come back to, again and again.
Softly, until I write again.
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