If last fall was filled with new challenges, this fall was filled with recreating those challenges. We did the Whole30 again; I wrote for 31 days again; we’ve reestablished bedtime and wake-up routines, though slightly different since our schedule is slightly different.
The biggest difference between forming a habit the first time and re-forming a habit the second time is that it seems easier to cheat this second time around. On our second Whole30, it ended up being the Whole22 because we had visitors and commitments. We felt cleansed and reset and that last week just didn’t seem as important as the first time around.
I skipped a day of writing, due to a migraine this time. I debated going back to make it up but decided that Write 30 Days is good enough. I still achieved my purpose of telling a story and re-disciplining myself to write intentionally. In some ways, since the day I skipped was during my walk humbly week, it seemed fitting to just let it go.
My One Word for 2016 was enough; this year it’s capacity. Those two have built on each other beautifully and I’m learning that creating habits is important and life-giving. But it’s just as important to remember that when I slip on those commitments, it’s ok. That recognizing my capacity for each day may be different. I’m learning the value of creating flexible rhythms to my days.
Ultimately, I’m reminded of my need for structure. I enjoy formal challenges and goals because it is so easy to slip and let life meander. I think there’s something beautiful about the journey, not the destination but it’s a fine line between wandering and being lost. I’m learning to set goals with real life in mind; to not let my perfectionism become the end result; to remember that this is for my own practices.
Last year, I was inspired to do more 30-day challenges and changes. This year, I’m looking at some longer-term ideas, with a bigger overarching goal. These small practices are what build up strength for those bigger goals, but I want to remember that getting stronger means the ability to do something longer as well.
As I pursue justice, I’m learning this same thing holds true. Some days, I have the capacity to make calls, to show up, to post articles and be vocal. Some days, I need to be quiet and listen before any action is taken. Other days, I practice my privilege of turning off the news and focusing on my little family.
I’m learning to trust these flexible rhythms – that when I’m in-tune with where God has placed me, I am much more effective at playing a role in the restoration of this earth. Some opportunities are arising in 2018 for me to put these thoughts to practice and, while I’m still in the very early stages of these plans and hopes, I’m thankful for these past 30 days to reflect and form habits that will shape the way our family does peacemaking.
What do your rhythms look like? Is your life suited for shorter term goals and challenges or are you striving for a larger goal?
Thank you for joining me on this month of digging and questioning! I’ve so appreciated your comments, engagement, and encouragement!
This post is Day 31 of the Write 31 Days Challenge. I’m spending the month of October writing about the Backyard Justice. You can find the entire series over at my Backyard Justice page.
I may take out my stress in headaches; Bea takes hers out in sleep. She’s always been prone to night terrors and restlessness. Over break, with the ability to breathe and unwind, she was unable to sleep through the night. Yes, we had a week of pajama days but they weren’t as restful as I was envisioning. They stemmed from exhaustion and lethargy from interrupted sleep and inability to rest.
In the midst of all of this, I read 
The older I get and the more stories I hear, the more I realize how little I’ve had to overcome in this life. My parents were able to provide for college; my loans for grad school were minimal since I was going into a field that was underrepresented, both in interested workers and in finances. I’ve had opportunities to travel, to learn, to be continually supported in my decisions.
I am a nerd in the very untrendy sense of the word. I don’t wear cool glasses. I know little to nothing about pop culture references. My clothing style is firmly preppy without any funky flair. But I can engage in conversation about a lot of political topics, about some theology, and my favorite: history. As an art history major in college, I learned about the evolution of cultures and societies through their art and literature.
The flight was incredible. We were in a tiny plane and my friend, who once held the title of Navigator of Air Force One turned a blind eye to all of the FAA code violations. But, when we saw Everest through the windows, it was breathtaking.
Sometimes, I feel like I’m playing that game with the girls. We listen to the same song over and over again in the car; Elle always reads Goodnight, Moon or Quiet Time with Cassatt before naptime; I sing Egg Thoughts and Other Frances Songs every night before bed with Bea.
conversation in the park or I may not have enough extra hours to volunteer somewhere. Does this mean learning about people who believe differently, who look differently, or who are in a different economic bracket is out of our ability?
Annie Rim 