Routines

Professor:  I suppose you’ve settled into a routine with your new classes by now.  I think routines are underrated.  It’s when our routines get thrown off that we miss them the most.  Think of a time when something’s happened that messed up your routine – an illness, an injury, a trip.  During those times I find myself thinking about how other people are able to go about their normal routines while I’m unable.  After a long trip or disruption to the schedule, I’m happy to return to my routines.  I like the dependability and predictability.  Recent medical news suggests that bodies prefer routine for optimal health too.

In contrast, randomness and abnormality is challenging.  It forces us to be more alert and less complacent (certainly not a bad thing).  And, if events take us out of our areas of comfort every now and then so that we appreciate things more, that’s good too.  Sometimes it’s fun to break the normal pattern and do things differently on purpose – like taking a different way home, the path less traveled, as Robert Frost said in The Road Not Taken:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

While it’s nice to break up the routine, our perception of routine really depends on how closely we attend to the details.  You get up, have breakfast, go to classes in a certain pattern, and do it again the next day.

Student:  Sure, on the macro scale, that’s true, but when we attend to the details, no two performances of the same routines are truly identical – just like two performances of the same Mozart sonata will exhibit subtle differences, at least to the trained ear.  At a certain level, Mr. Frost simply went for another walk.  If he’d carried a GPS unit and we wanted to drill down close enough, we’d see that it was a slightly divergent route, but still part of this “routine” of taking a walk.  At the macro scale – we’d just see that he was in the woods.

P:  Right, so we have differing perspectives, that of an observer and that of an actor.  From the actor’s perspective, each footfall could lead to a new experience – perhaps a twisted ankle, perhaps the avoidance of a beetle, or the sighting of a woodpecker.  From the observer’s perspective, depending on the proximity, there may be nothing different to report… “4-1-12, Subject R. Frost took another walk in the woods.  End of report.”

Let’s focus on the perspective of the actor for now.  We’ll leave the observers to their own routines for the time being.  Think of a prisoner in a jail, where the routine is dictated by others.  Even then, there will be subtle differences from day to day that may be missed by an unfamiliar observer.  Sounds, smells, layers of dust, wear and tear of garments and shoes, scuffs on the floor, all minute and perhaps inconsequential differences, but differences nonetheless.

S:  Sherlock Holmes would pick up on them.

P:  Right you are – he’s the fictional master of the subtle tell.  But again, he’s an observer and we’re focusing for the moment on the actor so as to explore the relative merits of routines and their converse.  Perhaps we’ll come back to Mr. Holmes later.

S:  Alright, well since you put it that way, what is the converse of routine?  Wouldn’t it just be randomness?  If the routine is to go from Point A to Point B, then “non-routine” would be to never reach Point B, correct?

P:  Purely speaking, I can’t argue with that.  But perhaps that situation presents a bit too much chaos to start with.  What if we assume that the task does get completed, but just by a different route or means for the time being?

S:  OK, we’re marching from Point A to Point B and considering the relative merits of different routes.  Perhaps I’ll skip instead of march or I’ll walk backwards.  What if I go with my eyes closed or in the dark instead of in daylight?

P:  In each case, you’ll experience the event in a slightly different manner and, depending on how astute you are, you may learn something different each time.

S:  Or I may just fall on may ass or bump into the wall.

P:  Stepping outside our routines does present some risk.  It may be trivial or it may be profound.  But, one can never presume that even the most mundane of routines won’t be affected by some unanticipated random event.  Perhaps a widowmaker happened to fall at the precise time Mr. Frost happened to pass along the same familiar path and clonked him on the head?

S:  Well, that certainly would’ve made all the difference.  He should’ve been paying attention.  I remember walking with friends along a trail in the woods one day.  Everyone passed along ahead of me on the same path, each one stepping over a snake without comment until I, bringing up the rear pointed out to them all, in their surprise, what they’d just done.  They weren’t paying attention either – they all saw it as a stick.

P:  Perhaps the point is that regardless of how routine or familiar a situation, pathway, or routine appears, there are always opportunities to perceive something new, we just need to be aware.  Perhaps by varying our routines within a prescribed set of behaviors that we’re obliged to perform to satisfy our societal and familial obligations, we open our senses to both subtle and dramatic changes that might otherwise be unnoticed.

S:  I’ll ponder that today and will try not to do anything foolish as I go about my routines.

P:  A stumble may appear foolish and still lead to wisdom.

Happy April Fools Day!