The Reminiscence of Routine

"Place things into a routine that give you the power to be happy for the little things in life."

Every morning on the way to work, I wave a “buenas días” to my neighbor walking his German Shepard, make a pit-stop at the fruitera to grab my freshly squeezed zumo de naranja , and pass by the maroon and tangerine tinted restaurant that always emits an aroma of warm chocolate croissants and hazelnut café con leches.

We all subconsciously create patterns in our lives because it makes us feel good to have something constant within each day. I’ve found that routine brings comfort, not from the physical routine itself, but from the association of familiarity it transpires. Regardless of the persons, places, or things that compose our repeated rhythm, it’s a refrain we all cling to in order to find consistency within our actions and, in turn, ourselves.

With my morning refrain laid down flat, I enter my workplace at Entrenarme, an online search engine that allocates trainers for clients, depending on the client’s goals and location. My job involves communicating with co-workers in Spanish to construct messages the company wishes to convey, and then outboxing those messages through phone calls and emails to business partners and clients in the United Kingdom.

After work, my pattern continues with Spanish classes twice a week and a language exchange at a local bar downtown.  The class is based around written and oral communication, with discussions that range from the Subjunctive and Conditional tense, to necessity of Netflix and the Backstreet Boys in Spain.

Every now and then, my normal routine encompasses detours; one being in the form of paragüismo (kayaking), where I ended up spending more time in the water than in the kayak itself.  I traveled to the town of Cofrentes, and my friend Mackenzie and I mounted our journey on the Rio Júcar.  The river was crisp and clear, but unfortunately most of my attention was diverted to trying to keep my balance in check as we rammed into bushes and branches, found ourselves stuck on rocks that halted our voyage, and raced through rapids where the current proved too intense to stay within the proximities of the boat. It was a venture in which we surely made our mark, but may have left our dignity with the rio.

Aside from the paragüismo, my favorite venture that has snugged its way into our routine is the playa, a 20-minute metro ride that leads to a safe haven getaway. The tide stays low, with millions of little waves crashing onto the surface, somehow putting my mind at peace.  I’ve always been one to associate the ocean with having a life of its own, proven in the way people seem to regard it as an escape from reality and a personified presence to confide in. I could look out onto the horizon forever, as one glance leaves me in a trans; an endless daydream containing no start or finish, simply a series of rambled thoughts laid out for the tide to grab and take away.

The town that surrounds Las Arenas carries a piece of Old San Juan to Spain, as the streets are lined with old houses wearing tinted paint, and vibrant flowers and palm trees adding a classic touch to the laid-back vibe.

Whether in Virginia or in Spain, it’s the things we purposely place in our routine, like the presence of a beach, a cute dog, or a fresh glass of orange juice, that give us the power to be happy for the little things in life.  No matter how trivial a person, place, or meal may be to others, it’s an element for us, that triggers meaning in our lives and a sense of contentment to our day.