4 Ways to Design a Routine That Works for Your Brain

Note: If you’d rather watch than read, you can do so here.

There’s advice everywhere on how to form routines. I bet you could google “Forming Working Routines” right now and get a bajillion articles without even trying. If we were at a party and this topic was people, you could crush a beer can on your head and throw it and hit someone without bothering to aim. I get it.

That’s not what this is, I promise. While I found James Clear’s Atomic Habits super helpful, I’m also too ADHD to be able to follow everything the man suggests. So, I figured I’d throw my hat in the ring with four things that I don’t see enough that I feel will be super helpful for those of you who need a little extra push. 

And if you’re wondering why you should even bother listening to me, the answer is a little different from what you might be expecting. I’m not a lifestyle guru or a time management genius or paid by others to manage their day. What I am is a person who’s learned how to balance mothering, wifing, writing, and lifing without falling apart. And, while I’m still perfecting my own process, I think I’ve learned enough to hopefully help someone else out there. 

So here’s what I’ve done to get here.:

Thing 1: Do a Thought Experiment

I don’t know if this has been doled out by many others, but I got this thought experiment from Mandi Em, writer of Witchcraft Therapy and the brain behind Healing for Hot Messes. Mandi suggests that you sit back and ask yourself what a day in the life would look like if you were living your ideal. Write it, voice journal it, whatever you need to do, and be specific. Don’t worry about where you are right now at this point; just imagine where you’d live, what you’d do with your time, what you’d eat…don’t leave out a detail that comes to mind. \

After you’ve got that, review your answers against what your life is like right now. And if you think I’m going to follow up by saying “now figure out how to make it a reality,” you’re half right. Because sometimes, we’re not going to be able to make our dreams a 1:1 reality. That’s not gonna be possible. So instead, look through what you’ve said, and figure out how to bring yourself as close to your reality as possible. 

A personal example: in my ideal life, I have a huge, cozy office with big bay windows that allow me to see the seasons change. I live in Costa Rica and can’t have that. We could move me to wherever we wanted in my house, but I can’t force the seasons to change here. So instead, I had to ask deeper questions: what about the seasons changing made me feel integrated? How could I bring those details into my home? 

It’s not going to be a short process by any means, but it’ll be worth it, because once you’ve done this, you’ll know what you want–no–need your routine to look like, rather than what you think it should look like at the jump. 

Thing 2: Strict Flexibility

You might think I’m screwing with you, but I promise I’m not. This is a thing, and it’s actually really important, especially for neurodivergent brains. What this means is, you have to find the sweet spot between hardcore structure and wiggle room. 

For me, this could mean simply putting aside blocks of time to work on a general topic, but not giving myself specific tasks (i.e. a “work block,” without really deciding what that means until I’m sitting down); having “if-then” scenarios for wherever my energy might be in a day, or allowing extra time for deadlines so that if I can’t get to work one or two days in a row, it’s no skin off my nose. The whole point is to make sure I know where I’m going, but to make room for me to stray from the path, so to speak, on the way. 

I’d love to tell you what that sweet spot is, but it changes from person to person. Even for me, it changes depending on what time in my cycle it is. So you’re going to have to experiment with it for a bit to see what works. Which takes me to the next thing: 

Thing 3: Curiosity

Listen: if you’re gonna go into this getting pissed off at every misstep or bad guess or unproductive day, you’re going to hate this so much that it’ll be like you never started at all. Instead, you have to be ready to ask “why” when things don’t go the way you planned. Not in a “WHY ME” sort of way, but in they way someone might try to adjust a failed science experiment. If you get to the end of a month and you realize that you didn’t do half the things you wanted to, rather than wailing that you suck and you’ll never get ahold of yourself, ask “why.” If you can’t seem to get up early enough to finish the things you want to do, ask “why.” You’re Dr. House and your routine is the patient, and it’s your job to find the diagnosis that’ll unlock the whole damned mystery. 

And I’m gonna just tell you now: sometimes the answer is going to be that the routine you picked isn’t realistic the way that you have it planned. That’s okay. Just re-evaluate and figure out what is realistic, and what you’d be happy with keeping. As long as your ideal routine is conceptually the same as what you’ve hoped for, you’ll be fine. 

Thing 4: Joy

If you read all about habits and routines and the building of said habits and routines, you’re gonna hear a lot about discipline. You’ll also hear a lot about structure, and timing, and patience, and self-compassion. All of that is important, sure, but people always forget the most important thing: if you don’t enjoy what you’re doing, or something connected to what you’re doing, your routine won’t stick.

For example, if you’re telling yourself that you’ll go for a run every morning but you hate running, all it’s gonna take is a few days of sickness, or a trip, or a bad rainstorm and you’re gonna fall off the wagon again. Let me amend that: we all fall off the wagon sometimes; that won’t be the problem. The problem will be getting back on the horse again. You’ll struggle for weeks trying to force yourself to start running again, because deep down inside, you fucking hate it and you don’t get why you have to do this stupid thing you hate when eating bread makes you happy and you don’t have to hurt your knees to do it. 

In the end, you have to find the joy in it. 

Now, in this instance, that could look like reframing the situation (saying “I get to run in the morning” instead of “I have to run in the morning”). It could also look like finding something you like about running and focusing on that, even if it’s the post-run croissant and coffee you gift yourself every day. It could even look like realizing that there are other workouts that you like more, and focusing on those instead. 

The point is: discipline gets you to start, but joy makes this shit sustainable. 

A personal example I’ll leave you with: I used to work out every morning. I’d get up at 5 AM and I’d drag my ass into the gym and I’d work out for 20 minutes, and then I’d continue my day. It was exactly the kind of thing I figured a badass go-getter would do. 

I fucking hated it. 

In the end, I’d go to bed with dread in my heart, because I wasn’t looking forward to my workout the following morning. I didn’t want to lift weights or jump around. First thing in the morning? That’s the last thing I wanted. 

At some point, I figured that waking up dreading something wasn’t setting the best mood for my day, and I still wanted to be up early, so I asked myself what I’d rather be doing instead – the answer was writing. So I set my coffee maker to make some coffee at 4:56, promised myself I’d sit down to write to some jazz and have some real time to myself, and wouldn’t you know it? I bounced out of bed right on time, happily did my writing, and spent the rest of the day in a wonderful mood. 

Since then, I’ve fallen off the train multiple times. But I’ve always found a way to return to writing and creating, and I never go too long without figuring out how to get up early so I can enjoy the sunrise. 

Hopefully something here helped you, and if you have anything else that you think might be helpful for you, throw it my way. I love hearing how other move through the world.