the monster of routine

Today I thought of the concept of routine as a strong, relentless monster. Sounds ominous, I know, but in truth I'm only trying to emphasize the power it has, not imply that it's naturally evil. Routine is the link between what was and what is. We learn, we respond and we incorporate things/ideas/activities into our brains. The past is the means by which we view and evaluate the present. Once we find what works for us and what we like, we notice and remember it and then proceed to seek it and choose it over and over and over again.

Not all routines are good. Some of them are weak and selfish responses to stress. Some of them are fearful responses to imaginary terrors. Some, I suppose, are just part of being a naturally flawed human being. It is this downside of routine that becomes so monstrous. Routine becomes so natural, so practiced and so constant that it starts to escape evaluation. Is it a good routine? Who cares...it's my routine. Do we stop to evaluate whether or not it truly works for us? Perhaps not. It's our routine. Do we care to question whether or not we should like, support or continue a routine? Who has time to do that? We're busy with our routine, building its power, lengthening its credentials, feeding the monster...