​​View in browser​

Hi Reader,

My morning routine is religious to me.

Before I get pulled in a hundred directions, before the day takes over, before the emails start lining up… I take time for myself.

A little yoga. Meditation. Some reading. Journaling. Three mornings a week, the gym. A short walk after.

(Yes, before you ask. I get up really early 😅)

I learned a long time ago that if I don't do these things first thing, I just don't get around to them. The day eats them.

So I protect that window. Fiercely.

Until last Monday.

I reached for my phone. 🙄 Just for a second. Just to check.

And before I knew it… I was responding to work emails. Then more emails. And somehow, I'd lost track of time entirely.

I rushed to the gym, later than usual.

Now, normally, I have the gym to myself at that hour. Peace and quiet. Just how I like it.

But not that day.

There was already a gentleman on the treadmill. Music blasting through his phone. (Not earpods. Phone 🤨) And, well, he was clearly putting in the hard work, because the sweaty smell was lingering.

The smell I sorted out quickly by opening the windows.

The music? He kindly turned it down.

Down. Not off.

And while I do enjoy a wide range of music genres… let's just say that one wasn't on the list 😅

So there I was, already off my normal slow, easy rhythm, now rushing through my routine to get out of there as fast as possible.

Thankfully, my walk afterwards calmed me down.

But the lesson landed loud and clear:

My mornings are for me.

Not for the inbox.
Not for the urgent that isn't actually urgent.
Not for anyone else's noise (literal or otherwise).

One little phone check was all it took to unravel an entire morning. And it reminded me why I built that routine in the first place.

Sometimes the smallest concession costs us the most.

Chat next week,
Peggy 🌿

Backyard Gossip | Stories about life, business & the spaces in between