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On sailing ships and setting intentions: The July Reset

Let me preface what I'm about to write by saying that I am not traditionally the goal setting type.

Nor am I the kind of woman that has her ducks neatly in a row.

For anyone that knows me knows I have tended to resist order and structure in my life like a child stubbornly resists bedtime.

It's not that I could never see the advantage of setting and keeping goals, but making them always gave me this feeling of being trapped. Setting goals and creating good habits were for people more ambitious and organised than I, or so I thought; they were the kinds of people who kept a diary (and used it) and alphabetised their bookshelves.

I didn’t consider myself to be one of those people.

The truth is that I’m random. And not in the way that teenage girls say "oh my god - that's so random" but I mean the dictionary definition of the word; proceeding, made or occurring without definite aim, reason or pattern. My two highly logical, ordered and routine-loving flatmates will attest to this. They are creatures of habit, both pretty much eating the same thing for breakfast everyday (and likely lunch too), with set shower times and daily routines. I think the inefficiency of my lack of routines is often a source of amusement for them, but also of mild frustration too (usually when I make us late or steal their shower slot).

I don't have a routine for anything in my life. I don't follow a set routine for my mornings or evenings, I rarely eat the same thing for breakfast in consecutive days, don't always do the same workouts at the gym or put makeup on in the same order day. For the longest time I quite happily lived like this, changing things up to suit my mood, sailing along with the flow of daily life. That was until four months ago.