My non-negotiable daily routine is a morning walk. Soon as I drop the kids off. Even in the rain because God knows I'm not made of sugar. I breathe belly breaths. Sometimes I take my ipod and sometimes I don't. I try to clean my brain's house, shake out all the crap. I leave a trail of detritus behind me - little pieces of mental paper on which are written all my "supposed tos and shoulds and have tos and don't wanna dos". I envision the passing cars ripping right through those little bits.
And then I fill my brain back up, with other things, cleaner things: the dark framework of winter trees against a cold, ceramic blue sky, lacy green lichen on bark, half a pretty walnut, an impossibly red cardinal against a last small pile of snow.
I return a half hour later, or an hour, maybe even more if there's a considerable amount of crap to shake loose. I empty my pockets. Here's today's collection:
Check out the piece of wood that looks like a long-billed bird. And the long twist of vine. I even love all their shadows.
And then as C.S. Lewis said: "The routine from the walk, and the arrival of tea, should be exactly coincident..."
Read about the daily routines of the likes of painters Gerhard Richter and Jasper Johns at:
They procrastinate and dilly-dally and lolly-gag just like us.