Breaking Habits

Yesterday morning when my alarm went off I was about to start my Sunday like have most Sundays in the last year. And then I had a burst of inspiration. I wanted to go to a nearby park. I decided to blow off my regular routine and head there instead. And it was the right decision. The moment I arrived at the park I knew it. Even though there was an overflow of cars and it seemed everyone else had the same idea, I was at peace the moment I drove in.

As I got on the trail almost immediately I started to take pictures. I knew fairly quickly this was not going to be a speed day. In fact, I texted my husband between photos and said: Slow on pace, high on beauty.

And I decided to be OK with that.

When you do things like this you often ask yourself: Why don’t I do this more often? Why did I hesitate? We hesitate because we are creatures of habit and comfort. We crave them and they cage us equally all the time.

Habit, at its best, keeps us on healthy eating stretches and going to be bed on time. At its worst, it keeps us on unhealthy eating binges and staying up way too late. But even the best habits can sometimes get in the way of something even better: living!

If I hadn’t been at the park, I would have been at a church service. But I would have been there out of habit and less from a calling on that particular morning. Yesterday, I felt drawn to the park and once I got on its calming and welcoming trails I knew why. On this particular Sunday, this was church. This was a spiritual experience.

Sometimes our best decisions are made from strong, solid habits and others are made by instinct. And when we stay connected with ourselves, we know the difference. We can discern the clear divergence of inspiration from obligation. We feel the difference between “should” and “need to.” But we don’t always trust ourselves. And honestly, sometimes we get it wrong. But mostly, if we are really paying attention, we get it right. When we use our inner guide as our compass instead of expectation, we make the right choice, regardless of what it looks like to others.