I love my morning routine; it’s sacred to me.
I protect it viciously.
And that’s a problem.
Because when it’s disrupted, it screws up my day. I’ve become a prisoner to my own success in creating a morning routine.
It’s odd because the routine does serve my business; it’s set up to create flow when I sit down at the keyboard and create for two hours.
My morning routine is a product of writing “Blank Canvas” and writing my next two books; it works like a charm; it serves its purpose.
But, it doesn’t serve the long-term vision of my life and my soul if it’s become too comfortable and something I fear losing.
When you live or work in the same environment long enough, you no longer notice the paint color or wallpaper.
My morning routine has become the wallpaper of my life.
The fact that I feel fear as I write this means I’m heading in the right direction, and I know what I need to do.
Reinventing my life after prison meant starting over from scratch; it meant going within and understanding what matters to me, what I want to create, and how I want to give back.
Because what I craved all those years of chasing titles, deals, money, and materialism was meaning.
I wanted my life to have meaning; I wanted to be fulfilled.
One of the surest paths I know to create meaning and fulfillment in my life is connecting to a mission more significant than myself, and the best way I know to support that mission is to pursue mastery in my craft.
Mastery in the art of communication (for me, it’s writing, speaking, and coaching) requires experiential knowledge alchemized into deep understanding.
The more I experience, the more I have to alchemize in service to others.
I have to do what I fear doing; it’s time to smash the routine; it’s time for the discomfort of novelty.
Novelty wakes me from my subconscious slumber.
If I want to create something different in my life, I must create a different life.
I’m extracting gold out of this situation, and I hope I carry it with me in all aspects of my life:
Knowing when to walk away from comfort when it no longer serves the long-term vision I desire for my life and practicing the courage to step boldly into the unknown.
Because the execution is where I live fully, it’s where I create magic in my life and feed my soul.
The more I feed my soul, the more I have to give back.
You may also like these posts on The Good Men Project:
 White Fragility: Talking to White People About Racism |
 Escape the “Act Like a Man” Box |
 The Lack of Gentle Platonic Touch in Men’s Lives is a Killer |
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