Routine is Your Life Preserver

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how we navigate the catastrophic emotional explosions that detonate in our lives. We all encounter these internal IEDs—divorce, brutal breakups with lovers or close friends, losing a job, estrangement from family, the death of a parent, child, or beloved pet. Each has the power to throw us violently off our path. They leave us numb, shocked, and sometimes unable to even get out of bed. It’s as if we’ve been shell-shocked after an explosion, dazed as we stare at the surreal wreckage of our emotions and the life we thought we were living.

How do we move beyond that point? In those moments, it feels like everything is over. Why bother? Life isn’t the same and never will be. True—you never step into the same river twice. But the river still flows, and that flow is the nourishing current of life itself. Our lives may be changed forever, but they are still moving, still capable of carrying us somewhere new. We just have to let go, trust the current, and allow it to take us downstream.

Of course, that’s easier said than done. The unknown is terrifying. What dangers lie ahead? Is there a waterfall coming that we can’t yet see? There’s a certain safety—however stagnant, however painful—in staying put. Sometimes stewing in the hurt feels safer than confronting uncertainty. The evil you know feels more manageable than the one you don’t.

So what breaks the paralysis? What pulls us out of bed when everything in us wants to disappear beneath the covers? It’s not some new-age revelation. It’s something humanity has known for thousands of years. Marcus Aurelius, the Roman philosopher-king, wrestled with dark days and crushing melancholy over two-thousand years ago, too. His answer? Stick to the routine.

Yes—routine. That is your saving grace. It’s the guiding light in the dark. It’s the man in the red bandana leading you safely down the stairs and out of the burning building. Routine propels us when our emotions shut down the executive function of our minds. It affects the entire body; when you honor it, your physiology kicks in and says, “This is what we’re doing right now. This is what we need.” Listen to your body.

Routine gives the mind a break from the vicious cycle of emotional rumination. It forces us to focus on immediate, tangible tasks, pushing the painful thoughts to the back burner. That’s why even a simple walk around the block can be profoundly therapeutic when we’re sad, depressed, angry, or spiraling. Routine creates space in our minds.

It also keeps us moving forward—toward our goals or simply through the day. It makes us put one foot in front of the other. Movement is essential. On D-Day, the soldiers who stayed frozen on the beach were the ones most at risk; those who kept moving were the ones who survived. Routine becomes the steady Sergeant guiding us through the minefield when our minds are foggy and our emotions are raw. Routine delivers us.

So trust your routine, whatever it may be. We all have one—it’s our internal level set. For today, just follow it. It has carried you this far; it can carry you further. Before the emotional explosion, you were functioning, maybe even thriving, right? Life was working. So return to what worked. And if the old routine is now too painful because it involved someone or something no longer in your life, then this is the moment to build a new one.

Old or new, cling to your routine with near-religious devotion. Not with perfectionism—just disciplined, steady commitment. Your emotions are fragile right now, and your brain and heart are the most powerful organs you have. Think of routine as the cast that protects them while they heal. And they will heal.

How do I know this works? Because at 46, I’ve survived more than a few emotional explosions—and I’m still here. Routine saved me.