Every once in a while, we come back to what we know: routine can help manage times of anxiety and stress.
A few weeks back, Jim and I both had a cold. Nothing major, but it lingered. We slept more, moved less, and gave ourselves permission to skip the gym, the bike, and yoga.
And somewhere in that slower pace, I was reminded of something simple and true:
Routine isn’t rigid.
It’s necessary.
For years, when we lived in New York, our movement was built into our lives. Three days of cycling. Two or three days of strength training. Yoga, when I could fit it in. It wasn’t forced. It was who we were.
And it wasn’t just exercise. It was connection.
Summers meant early mornings on the Rondout Creek, drifting in our kayaks as the sun rose over the Hudson. Those moments weren’t scheduled in a calendar, but they were part of a rhythm we trusted.
If we missed a day, or even took a week off, we felt it. We knew rest was good for us, but we still craved the return to routine. That rhythm grounded us.
Life Happens
Since moving to New Mexico, we’ve lost some of that cadence.
Life changed. Our environment changed. Our circumstances changed. And slowly, almost without noticing, our structure softened.
We still move. We still care about our health. But without consistent timing, without a shared rhythm, it’s easier to delay. Easier to skip. Easier to say, “later.”
And lately, I’ve been asking myself why that matters so much.
Part of the answer came unexpectedly.
Reducing Uncertainty
I came across a post that stopped me in my tracks. It shared that in high-stress environments, military units don’t focus on “relaxing” to reduce stress. Instead, they reduce uncertainty. Because uncertainty is what spikes cortisol (the stress hormone).
That idea stayed with me.
Maybe stress doesn’t come from effort.
Maybe it comes from not knowing.
When your brain doesn’t know when rest is coming…
when work will end…
when you’ll feel safe again…
…it stays on.
That constant low hum of uncertainty?
That’s what exhausts us.
Routine Signals Safety
And suddenly, routine looks different.
Routine isn’t about control.
It’s about signaling safety.
Same wake-up time.
Same meal time.
Same general rhythm to the day.
Not perfection. Not rigidity. Just consistency that your nervous system can recognize.
Because calm isn’t something we think our way into.
It’s something our body learns.
I’ve been feeling this shift in other areas of my life, too.
At work, my role has changed. My calendar opened up in ways I didn’t expect. I have fewer meetings and more long-term projects. On paper, it looks like more space.
But the truth is, space without structure can feel like uncertainty.
Progress Over Completion
I’ve had to relearn how to measure a day. Not by what’s finished, but by what’s moved forward. Progress instead of completion.
And that requires intention.
The same is true at home.
Since Jim’s hip replacements, we’ve eased back into movement, but without a set routine. Some days we go to the gym. Some days we ride. But without deciding when, it’s easy to keep pushing it later in the day.
And sometimes, later becomes not at all.
Writing has followed a similar pattern. The intention is there. The desire is there. But without a dedicated time, it becomes a sticky note I carry forward a day or week instead of a practice I live into.
Meals. Sleep. Relationships.
They all follow the same pattern.
Without intention, they become reactive.
Self-Care Tool
When I wrote Wheels to Wellbeing, I talked about using our tools both reactively and proactively.
Reactively, when life feels overwhelming, we ask:
What do I need right now to feel steady again?
Proactively, when life feels good, we ask:
What do I need regularly to keep feeling this way?
Routine lives in both spaces.
It helps us return when we’ve drifted.
And it helps us stay when we’ve found our footing.
Because chaos might feel like freedom in the moment…
but over time, it drains us.
Rhythm, on the other hand, restores.
So I’ve been gently asking myself:
Be Intentional
Where can I create more predictability in my day?
A consistent wake-up window.T
More intentional movement times.
A dedicated space for writing.
Meals that are planned instead of reactive.
Time set aside for the people I love—not just talked about, but honored.
Not as rules.
But as signals.
Signals that say:
You’re safe.
You’re supported.
You can settle here.
We don’t need more willpower.
We need more rhythm.
We don’t need to overhaul our lives overnight.
We don’t need perfect mornings or perfectly planned days.
We just need something steady to return to.
One consistent wake-up time.
One intentional movement.
One small promise we keep to ourselves each day.
Because healing doesn’t always look like breakthroughs.
Sometimes, it looks like rhythm.
A quiet return.
A gentle repetition.
A life that begins to feel safe again—not because everything is certain, but because we’ve created something within it that is.
And maybe that’s enough for now.
A little more structure.
A little more softness.
A little more trust in the patterns that hold us.
One day at a time.
One routine at a time.
One steady breath at a time.
©2026 Lori Ann King
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