Habits to Keep Us Staying Present

A few weeks ago, I read Justin Whitmel Earley's The Common Rule:   Habits of Purpose for an Age of Distraction.  In some ways, it's similar to many articles and books I've been reading, with the main point that we need to do more to be present.  But it comes at the topic from a theological angle, so it's intriguing.

Here's a passage that in many ways sums up the book:  "Calling habits liturgies may seem odd, but we need language to emphasize the non-neutrality of our day-to-day routines.  Our habits often obscure what we're really worshiping, but that doesn't mean we're not worshiping something.  The question is, what are we worshiping?" (p. 9).

Earley prescribes 4 daily habits and 4 weekly habits to help keep us focused on God.  Those of us who have been thinking about these issues won't be surprised at his choices for daily habits:  praying at morning, midday and bedtime (he tells us to get on our knees), eating a meal with others, turning off our phones for an hour, and reading the Bible before we look at our phones in the morning (or when we wake up).  For weekly habits, he prescribes one hour of conversation with a friend, curating media to 4 hours, fasting from something for 24 hours, and sabbath time.

As with many books like this, I didn't learn much that I didn't already know.  But it was good to have a reminder.

I've been noticing something with these books lately:  they all assume that we're carrying our smart phones with us everywhere.  I realize that I'm an oddity in that I don't have a smart phone.  So a book like this one that assumes I'm a slave to my phone isn't as useful as it could be.

Of course, I'm never far from a computer, and those are distracting enough.  But they are easy to ignore when I'm away from my office.

In many ways, Earley's system seems a bit rigid.  But that shouldn't surprise me.  After all, the author tells us where he stands early in the book:  "Actually, by barraging ourselves with so many choices, we get so decision-fatigued that we're unable to choose anything well" (p. 11).  He says, "What if true freedom comes from choosing the right limitations, not avoiding all limitations?" (italics are the author's, p. 11).

At times I feel exhausted by any regime, and I'm reminded of all the times I've failed.  He talks about a moment of honesty when he had failed:  "This was the morning I realized that failure is not the enemy of formation; it is the liturgy of formation.  How we deal with failure says volumes about who we really believe we are.  Who we really believe God is.  When we trip on failure, do we fall into ourselves?  Or do we fall into grace?" (p. 162).

So yes, let us try again--ever and always.