routinely

A part of me craves routine and a part of me rebels at the mere thought of it.
The routine I crave is really the small rituals of daily life that add meaning.
I remember my in-laws when I think of this.
They always set the table a certain way.
A slow, methodically wondrous way.
They were seniors by the time I knew them.
Perhaps the slow and steady wisdom of age was partly responsible.
I loved it though.
The woven basket with slices of brown bread AND fruit bread.
The pale blue, milk glass sugar bowl, its rim worn thin by the passage of time and spoon handles.
I imagine my life is made up of similarly small ritual and routine but I just don't notice it because I'm part of the story.
It makes me think of something I read once.
A girl was complaining, "We don't have any Christmas traditions. We just do everything the same way every year."
While there is a certain comfort and even wisdom in routine and ritual, there is an equal joy and even benefit to flying by the seat of your pants, to spontaneity.
It's the balance of the two that is so individual.
Have you ever noticed that you only truly feel at home.....at home?
It doesn't mean that home couldn't be more serenely ordered, or more joyously filled with creative comforts because there is always room for change.
Change is good.
Routine is wonderful but change is good.