As I age I’m observing myself perform exactly the same routine in getting ready for my day and in preparing for bedtime including not only my comprehensive skin care drill but also the necessary rigamarole of taking my meds and making sure I already took them before taking them again, using outrageously expensive eye drops to treat my dry-eye, triple flossing teeth that are begging for me to diligently perform ongoing hygiene so they don’t fall out, rinsing sinus’ to open up the recently caved in deviated septum that had been corrected seven years ago but reversed itself and doing deep calf stretching to keep that hostile plantar fasciitis as only background noise. And all this as I sometimes as I aimlessly walking about trying to remember what I was supposed to do next.
When I was younger, I barely tolerated any necessary routines as I had a full schedule and just wanted to get on with my day. But now I have a choice. I can climb aboard this ship to revolt and mutinize against the mundane or I can revel in it and adopt a resting spirit encountering an ever-changing reality that will not hold its breath nor bring time to a halt.
So, I brush, scrub, stretch, and floss and view what would be considered mundane as my rite of passage that leads me into the realms of the known unknown.