Healing Isn’t Linear, But your Routine Can Be
Published August 4, 2025
The Power of Routine
Let’s start here: healing isn’t cute. It’s not a Pinterest quote with sparkles and tea. It’s messy. It’s forgetting why you walked into a room, crying in your car for no reason, and wondering if your Amazon cart full of “self-care” products is helping (spoiler: maybe).
Everyone says “healing isn’t linear,” and while that’s true, what they don’t tell you is how unhinged it can feel. One day you’re journaling and doing breathwork, the next you’re crying over a dog video on TikTok, wondering if Mercury is in retrograde again.
Here’s what helped me stop spiraling and start stabilizing: routine.
Not because it made me productive, but because it made me feel safe.
I used to think needing a routine meant I was fragile. Why do I need seven steps to feel okay in the morning? But now I realize: having a routine doesn’t make you weak - it makes you wise.
It’s a way of telling your body:
“I know the world feels like a lot right now, but here’s something we can count on.”
Regulating Your Nervous System (Without Quitting Your Job and Moving to Hawaii)
Let’s talk about that overworked nervous system for a sec. When you’re healing, your brain and body can go into “survival mode” over the tiniest things. Your email dings? Panic. Your stomach growls? Fear. A loud motorcycle drives by. Existential dread.
That’s why regulating your nervous system isn’t just helpful - it’s non-negotiable.
Here’s how I sneak nervous system care into my day:
Breathe like you’re in a yoga video: Inhale for 4, hold for 4, exhale for 6. Repeat until your shoulders drop from your ears.
Shake your arms and legs out like you’re trying to dry off invisible water.
Put your hand on your chest and say, “I’m okay right now.” (Even if your brain doesn’t believe it yet.)
Step outside and feel the sun on your skin—even if it’s just the walk to your mailbox.
Tiny things. Big shift.
My Morning Routine: Soft Launching Myself Into the Day
Here’s how I try to set myself up for a day that doesn’t unravel by noon:
Wake up and resist the urge to doom scroll (some days I win, some I don’t)
Meditate for 10–15 minutes outside or by a window. Even just sitting and breathing counts.
Put on a real outfit—even if I’m working from home. Clothes change my energy.
Pray. I don't pray without clean skin and fresh clothes, it just doesn’t feel right. I use this moment to talk to God and remind myself of what I’m calling in.
Do my makeup while blasting affirmations. “You are grounded. You are calm. You are stunning.” (You get it.)
Chamomile tea + journaling, if I have something to release or reflect on.
This routine doesn’t cure my anxiety, but it keeps me from free-falling. It gives my mind structure and my heart a little peace before the day begins.
My Night Routine: Winding Down Without Crashing
At night, I focus on slowing everything down. I want to send my nervous system the message: We’re done for the day. You can rest now.
Here’s what that looks like:
No screens after a certain time (I say 9 pm, but… you know… trying).
I’ll do crossword puzzles, read, or do crossword puzzles Something lowkey and grounding.
Somatic exercises like body scans or shaking tension out before bed
Chamomile tea in my favorite mug, because ritual matters. I swear the mug knows when it’s “me time.”
You don’t need a 12-step morning routine and a perfectly color-coded journal to heal. You just need a rhythm that makes you feel safe.
Healing is unpredictable. But your routine? That’s your reminder every day: I am showing up for myself. Even when I don’t feel like it. Even when I’m tired. Even when the healing journey feels more like a scavenger hunt for peace.
So start small. Pick one thing you do every morning and one thing every night. Let those anchor you. Then build from there.
Because healing might be messy, but you?
You’re learning to rise in the middle of it all.