Sunday, 23 December 2012

Routine and Habit

 As is the case for many folks I am a creature of routine and habit.


My morning routine is almost unchangeable.

Out of bed by 5:00


Boot up computer.
Greet Penne and the cats – Penne gets half a biscuit and the cats each get a couple of small treats.

Make coffee.

Have first cigarette.

Pour coffee.

Check e-mail and Facebook
Except that this morning my computer would not connect with the internet. Woe was me.

I tried all the tricks of the trade without success.

I called Comcast.  Getting through to a real live person is a feat requiring enormous patience.  I was patient.

The real live person told me that there were no reported outages in my area.  She asked me to “hold on”.  I did so for twenty minutes, and then my store of patience “went down”.

So I hoved off to MacD's : “Tablet” in hand. $1.08 bought a medium sized coffee.  Within three minutes I was on line using the free wi-fi.  (Later I discovered that I could have saved $1.08 but connecting with Mickey D’s wi-fi from the parking lot, but the coffee was good!)

45 minutes later and back at home, my desk top had connected itself to the internet.  Go figure!  Was the cold weather to blame -  nah!

Here’s the rub.  My morning routine was disturbed, and I got to be so very grumpy.  Very grumpy indeed.  I was even a bit snarky with the pets. ‘Twas so silly of me.

Yet, with you, I have come to expect internet connection as a normal part of life.

And, with many of you, I do not do so well when my routine is upset.



I have been a habitual church attender for as many years as I can remember.  Of course it was all fairly easy during the thirty years when I was paid to be there!

But I haven’t “done” much Church since August. There were two Sundays in September when I was paid to be a supply priest in Englewood (before my second retirement), and one Sunday in December when I was with my friend in Scottsdale AZ.

It’s probably been good to get out of the unthinking “habit” of attending Church.

But these days I struggle to find a reason why I should attend.

Nothing seems to “draw” me there, and I do not miss it.

I have remembered all the sermons I delivered which gave various reasons why one should be part of a worshiping congregation, but these days I have become deaf to my own preaching.

The longer I have stayed away the harder it has become to return.

There is no over-riding reason or reasons why I have dropped out.  It’s just that it all seems a bit pointless, or maybe unsatisfying, or even un-challenging..

Maybe I’ll drop back in one of these days, but for now I have a greater sense of understanding about those parishioners in four congregations who simply “dropped out”

1 comment:

  1. When it became impossible to park anywhere near St Stephen's without a long and painful walk back to the church I, too, dropped out. It annoyed me that all the nearby spaces had been taken earlier by Sunday School staff and choir members and the only two "handicapped" spaces were also early goners. So I stopped going. Of course I could easily attend the Saturday services, but since being retired I seldom remember what day it is, which includes Saturdays, and I don't feel the least bit guilty! I was born into a clergy family where I came to view it as the "family business" and living in a rectory was like "living over the store" - always at everyones' beck and call, and I resented every bit of my part in it! When I went to business school in NYC I attended services in the church that my father had steered me to as being the most convenient to where I lived, and felt guilty when I didn't go. Some years later when I married he steered us to another parish that was "convenient" and we became active there, but since I was still working long hours I resented that, too.
    Years after that when I returned upstate he was still an active minister and I was expected to show up in a pew every Sunday, come what may. More years later after becoming totally unchurched I found the Episcopal church, which suited me very well and I became voluntarily re-activated in every sense - but now I can't find a place to park and - again -I don't miss it. Nor do I feel the least bit guilty. I think I've done my time and I deserve a rest.