Look how they shine for you

It dictates our work schedules, creeps through our relationships, and even shows up in the same ol' turkey and cheese sandwich we pack for lunch.

It is Routine.

Most times we don't even realize it's there. But as soon as we do, sameness and all who it describes better run and hide.

Routine is a word we hate. I have always thought it to be synonymous with complacent and boring— words I would never want to describe me.

Routine = settling. Or so I thought.

When routine starts to turn me into a robot, I rebel. Everything around me starts to feel like a barrier between who I am and who I want to be — my job, my living circumstances, my bank account, and even my loved ones. Unfortunately, I often overlook the most dangerous barrier—me.

I'm learning to recognize the fine line between settling and being appreciative for what you have. It seems the same drive that helps me move forward can also detour me from recognizing what I need to bring with me into the future.

When I was younger I used to look outside the large window in my living room and stare at the stars—Kelly Clarkson "Break Away" style. Sometimes in the summer I would even venture outside to the swing by my pond, blaring burned cds from my discman (the preipodic age) and stare up .

Back then I thought big things—somehow swinging on that swing, staring at the stars gave me the confidence that I would someday change that big world out there. I wasn't sure how, but I was pretty confident it would happen.

I don't do this much anymore. In fact I have to admit that the fear of abduction, thanks to countless E! specials, has made me scared to step foot outside my house when everyone else is asleep. But this fear of intruders is not the only reason why.

Sometimes when I see a really starry night I get a little sad inside. What was once my favorite pastime has now become a stark reminder of all I haven't accomplished.

It seems there is little room between after work and 11PM to change the world.

But then there are other times when I refuse to believe that those nights I spent staring at the stars got me nowhere, except being able to locate the big dipper almost everywhere I go.

Yup, every once in a while there are extremely clear skies like tonight when I look up and remember who I used to be, who I want to be, and who I really am — a really lucky human being, routines and all.