What does my routine say about me?

Now midway into the first semester of my sophomore year, I realize I have fallen into a comfortable routine. Unlike last year, now I am accustomed to the daily hours of studying, weekly work schedule and ample time to simply be with friends. In fact, I seem to have this routine down to a science: wake up, go to class, do homework, eat dinner, do homework, maybe attend a club meeting, chat with friends and go to sleep. What was all so new, so exciting and so scary last year is now so routine. This newly found routine has become quite natural, but upon reflection, I cannot help but be somewhat bothered by it, like an unshakable worry.

It is a subdued worry, for I see the benefits of this routine — success in school, strong relationships, a regular paycheck and ultimately a sense of comfort — but it is a worry nonetheless. And it is a distinctly new worry at that. For me, and likely for many other young people, college is the first time when one can truly begin to make decisions on one's own. Within the confines of law and finances, I can do what I want and what I deem worthwhile. Basically, I see for the first time that I have the power to be in this particular routine or not. I could make radically different choices and lead a completely different life.

With this seemingly simple realization, I cannot help but question why am I where I am and doing what I am doing. It is not that I am unhappy with my choices and my position; because I am definitely not, quite the opposite in fact; I am incredibly contented with my pattern of studying and hanging out. It is instead an introspective nagging question: why this and not the allusive "that?"

Answering this question is not easy. I am not even convinced that it is answerable, yet I worry it might be a question that bothers me for quite some time or I fear, my entire life. I even worry that I am asking the wrong question. Maybe I shouldn't ask "why this and not that" but "what does how I spend my time say about me and my values?"

I actually believe that this would be a fruitful question for me to ask myself periodically. I am reminded of the cliché, "actions speak louder than words," but I would like to modify it to say something akin to "routines speak loudest of all." It is our routines, not our periodic out-of-routine actions that truly define us. So what does my routine say about me?

I know that if asked I would say that I value faith, helping others, and relationships above all. I suppose my routine says that I value grades, working, learning, time with friends, occasionally helping others. Maybe it is this discrepancy, between my routine-proven values and espoused values, that accounts for my nagging worry. I know consciously that on one level, working hard in school will one day allow me to help others and live out my values, but I think I also fear that I will not. Maybe my nagging worry is reflective of a deep fear that I will continue a life of "putting off" my real values, for those that are necessitated by routine.

As I look to the people around me — from my peers to my coworkers to my fellow citizens — I am concerned this fear may not be mine alone. I believe that people in general, and especially people of faith, do truly hope to live a life centered on God and loving other people, yet they often live in routines that do not fully reflect this desire.

I wonder why we as humans, supposedly free to do as we will, often live lives that do not align with our most deeply held values. Why do we spend hours working on possibly trivial tasks? Why do we not spend everyday growing in faith? Why do we not always love our neighbor as ourselves? Why do we not, as Jesus himself urged, sell our possessions and give it all to the poor?

Maybe it is simply not feasible. Or maybe I am wrong and many people do live such lives, but I know that I am worried that I do not. Yet, I know that I want to live a life in which my routine reflects my most esteemed values. I truly believe that if I altered my routine to more closely reflect these innermost values, my sense of nagging worry would at the very least decrease. So why have I not already started living this life? And how do I live it? Over the remainder of this year, I plan to search for these answers and make these changes.