If you can’t “find your groove,” you feel off track and out of whack. But when you’re “in the groove,” everything is working smoothly and you’ve found a good routine.
Though I have no reason to be shamefaced for saying so, I am a creature that prefers routine to the unusual. I say this reluctantly because so often the prosaic is contrasted unfavourably with the inspired. And while I acknowledge the benefit of enterprise, I find the drill or regiment of the groove is paramountly persuasive in the conduct of my daily affairs.
In the past six months we’ve undertaken a number of projects which to my mind have disturbed the elemental ingredients of daily living, those features one normally takes for granted such as health, accommodation, social affiliations, destiny and dreams. Today I practised riding my new tricycle and developed a margin of facility doing so. Following a tour of 5 Km about the property I plopped my carcass on a chaise longue beside the pool then went for a relieving paddle. It “inspired” me to do so and then to quit the pool and return to the townhouse on the tricycle as opposed to driving the car 100 yards which I had hitherto done.
Employing the convenience and diversion of the tricycle I had visited places within the compound where otherwise I would not have ventured. There is something outlandish about riding a tricycle. I must in the future wear my raffia hat to complete the picture of septuagenarian bliss.
This unembellished condition had begun before I arose from the lair this morning. Following an uncommonly placid awakening from a restorative sleep I lay motionless staring at the ceiling, watching the serene whirl of the Hunter fan, gradually penetrating the larger world about me. As I did so it occurred to me that I had nowhere to go, nothing to do. It is a magical feeling. It settled the demons, tranquillized the acid of reality, tempered the anxiety of living. I apologize for this seemingly unwarranted kerfuffle but the bald truth is that no one is spared these occasional sentiments. If one’s routine is rattled often enough it promotes a knee jerk reaction for stability which in turn reinvigorates the balance to which one is accustomed.
It is at first blush a small compliment to one’s ingenuity to be hopelessly dedicated to a dreary modus operandi. It might however quell the boredom to note that even a ship in a storm directed to a distant port must first upright itself before overcoming the waves. Settlement is the product of resolve and practicality. It assists the process to refine both the objective and the means. There is no pattern of conduct that hasn’t its underlying groove. It is upon that groove that streams the foundation which flows beneath one’s state of mind. I have today found my groove.