Burnout. Stress. Exhaustion. Neglect. Career dissatisfaction. Anxiety. Lack of motivation. Low productivity. The list goes on.

I’ve been cycling through all of these for the past year or so, plus many more which I haven’t identified or acknowledged yet. It wasn’t until I started seriously contemplating leaving my teaching job (which I’ve always LOVED and have always considered my calling), that I realized what the root of the problem was. I’m not dissatisfied with my job. I just haven’t been taking proper care of myself. And that lack of care–well, let’s just call it what it is: neglect–is the source of the myriad of symptoms listed above.

I’m not talking about the indulgent and comforting idea of self-care as a bubble bath or ordering takeout instead of cooking. I’m talking about the forms of self-care that are HARD. Going to bed at a decent hour. Not falling asleep to the glow of the TV. Waking up with enough time to enjoy a cup of coffee before rushing out the door. Staying on top of chores so the clutter and mess don’t make my anxiety worse. Maintaining a budget. Forcing myself to take time for the things I love to do. The purely selfish things that aren’t done in service of anyone else. Routines. Structure. Sticking to those routines and structure even when it’s hard, or life gets busy, or I just want to flop down on the couch and watch The Office for the 437th time. I know that these are the things that make me feel better overall. I know this. So how did I manage to let it all slip? And now, how do I get back to it?

It’s time to reset.

I’ve always been the kind of person to throw myself into a new endeavor fully, completely, whole-heartedly, and usually impulsively. Until I burn myself out or get bored and drop it like a hot potato. Recognizing this about myself, I’ve decided to take a different approach…yay for growth. I’m starting small. Taking baby steps. And most importantly, not being too hard on myself when I fall short of my own expectations.

Recently, in one of Nedra Tawwab’s weekly email newsletters, she linked this article by Terry Nguyen about the importance of rituals over routines. The area that I decided to work on first was creating (and sticking to) realistic and comforting morning and evening routines. To be completely honest, I’ve been pretty successful at sticking to a morning routine. The evening routine…not so much. After reading Nguyen’s article, I recognize that my morning “routine” is not so much a routine, but a ritual. For the last several weeks, I’ve had my alarm set for 7:00 am (never thought I’d see the day when I voluntarily set an alarm over SUMMER BREAK). I wake up, let the dog out, get dressed, and take the dog either to the park or on a walk around the neighborhood. After that, I slowly enjoy a cup of coffee in the backyard while I scroll through my phone. Then, I’ll have breakfast before going on to plan out my day. These quiet, slow moments in the morning have become almost meditative. There are opportunities for mindfulness, reflection, and introspection. It’s time for me to check in with myself and get energized for the day.

They haven’t all been perfect. I skipped some days, half-assed some other days, and there was one day that my dog decided to be an absolute lunatic and destroyed any semblance of morning peace and tranquility. But, overall, it’s become a practice that has stuck.

One of the points that Nguyen addresses in her article is that the difference between a ritual and a routine is fairly nuanced. At first glance, the two look pretty similar. What it comes down to, I think, is the idea of a chore or an obligation versus a fulfilling and enriching experience. For whatever reason, I view the evening routine (I’m using the word “routine” intentionally here) as a chore. It’s a task that I need to complete before ending my day. I believe that’s why I’ve been unsuccessful at finding one that sticks. I don’t need an evening routine, but I do need an evening ritual.