"The way we live our days is the way we live our lives."
— Annie Dillard
In the past, I've found I work best with solidified routines.
Without them, I drift. It's like I need a wiser, more structured version of myself to set the rhythm so that day-to-day me can just act.
But in the past few months, that rhythm broke.
It started with going to bed later, rarely falling asleep on the same day I woke up.
Then, I started missing my morning writing sessions, skipping workouts and scrolling until I fell asleep every night while my books collected dust.
It's like one of the legs of my life's chair folder, and the rest followed.
The drummer lost the rhythm, and now the whole band is out of sync.
The Axe and the Woodcutter
A young woodcutter was proud of his strength.
He chopped trees fast at first, but each day, his output declined.
He worked harder and harder, but cut fewer trees.
An old lumberjack asked, “When’s the last time you sharpened your axe?”
The young man replied, “I’ve been too busy chopping to stop.”
A realisation
"A small leak will sink a great ship."
— Benjamin Franklin
Is anything separate?
It all feels interconnected. Willpower seems to flow between domains.
The routines that guide you don't just help you function; they create rhythm and flow.
The opposite is also true. When one area folds, others slip. One broken habit can shake the whole foundation.
And a shaky foundation creates an unbalanced life.
It's as the Zen Buddhists say:
The way you do anything is the way you do everything.
You rarely see someone who trains hard but can't control their eating habits. Or someone who sleeps late, lazes around in the morning, yet thrives at work with sharpness and clarity.
Because it's the same force.
The energy that gets you out of bed early is the same energy that helps you face tough conversations, make good decisions and stay composed in moments when it matters.
It's not separate. It's all connected.
A correction
When your rhythm breaks, it feels like you've lost your edge. Discipline, confidence and creativity all take a hit.
But it's not a mountain to climb. It's a course correction. Like sailing slightly off track. You don't need to start over. You just need to steer.
You don't need a new axe; you just need to sharpen yours.
And that sharpening happens in small moments. Choosing discipline over comfort. Going to bed on time. Showing up in the morning for yourself. Putting your phone down.
Each small act of virtue builds momentum. It compounds. This momentum doesn't just exist in one area; it cascades into every domain.
And when you falter, it's ok. It's not catastrophic. It's a signal to —
Stop. Adjust. Move forward.
Sincerely,
eren