It started with a sunrise smoothie and a curated checklist taped to my fridge.
Hydrate. Meditate. Move. Journal. Cold shower. Dry brush. Gratitude. Repeat.
I was doing all the things that wellness culture told me a successful, grounded, self-optimized human should do before 9 a.m. My mornings were stacked, color-coded, and designed to check every box for what was supposed to bring clarity, energy, and purpose.
And honestly? Some of it did work—for a while.
But eventually, even with all the right ingredients, I found myself waking up already overwhelmed. I wasn’t present—I was performing. I wasn’t feeling well—I was managing wellness like a job. And beneath the surface of all this self-care structure was something I couldn’t shake: I wasn’t listening to myself. Not really.
So I quit the “perfect” morning routine. Not all at once, but piece by piece. And in its place, I started listening. Not just to my body or my energy—but to my seasons.
It turns out that building a routine rooted in inner and outer seasonality—rather than rigid systems—can lead to something gentler, more effective, and frankly, more human.
The Morning Routine Myth (and Why It’s So Alluring)
It’s no mystery why morning routines are so magnetic. They promise control. Order. That if we just wake up two hours earlier, stack the right rituals, and avoid our phones, we’ll access some secret energy that the rest of the world is too distracted to find.
It’s not a lie. A consistent morning practice can help regulate your nervous system, improve productivity, and create psychological stability. Studies show that people with regular routines often report lower stress, better sleep, and even improved metabolic health.
But here's the catch: most of these benefits rely on consistency, not complexity—and more importantly, personal relevance. What works wonders for one person’s biology, life stage, or climate might create pressure or dissonance for another.
Our obsession with routines has become less about self-awareness and more about optimization. And that’s where the cracks start to show.
The Problem With “Perfect”
The perfect morning routine is a moving target. Especially in wellness culture, which tends to monetize structure and treat self-regulation like a productivity metric.
Here’s where things start to unravel:
- It often ignores context. Parenting, shift work, chronic illness, seasonal affective disorder, or life transitions make rigid morning structures inaccessible for many people.
- It assumes sameness. Not just day to day, but year-round. But we are not machines—we move in rhythms, not lines.
- It confuses discipline with self-worth. If you’ve ever felt guilt or shame for skipping your morning workout or missing your journaling session, you know what I mean.
In psychology, this internal conflict is known as cognitive dissonance—when your actions don’t match your values or identity. Over time, this dissonance creates stress, self-criticism, and eventually, disengagement.
I didn’t want to disengage. I wanted to reconnect—but on terms that respected where I actually was. Not just where I thought I should be.
Enter: Seasonal Living (and Why It Changed Everything)
Seasonal living isn’t new. It’s how humans lived for most of history—before artificial lighting, 24/7 productivity culture, and the idea that “success” means feeling the same way every day.
What shifted for me was not just syncing my habits to the actual seasons (winter, spring, etc.)—but recognizing that I have inner seasons, too. And so does my nervous system.
Some days I wake up in “summer mode”—clear, energetic, ready to run. Others, it’s more like late February, emotionally and physically. Damp. Slow. Sensitive.
And instead of pushing through or trying to “fix” those shifts, I started working with them.
This concept aligns closely with chronobiology, the science of natural body rhythms, and infradian rhythms, which refer to cycles that last longer than a day—like menstrual cycles, hormonal cycles, and even energetic cycles related to emotional recovery or stress processing.
Here’s how this played out in my own mornings:
In high-energy seasons, I could lean into more structured habits—like a morning walk, cold water exposure, or writing sprints.
In low-energy seasons, my mornings got simpler: a warm drink, slower movement, or even just sitting outside with the sky for a few minutes.
Neither version was “better.” Both were valid. The key was flexibility rooted in awareness—not guilt.
Morning Routines and the Nervous System: What Science Really Says
Let’s talk regulation. Because underneath most morning routines is an attempt to regulate our autonomic nervous system—the unconscious part of us that controls digestion, heart rate, and stress response.
There are two main branches:
- Sympathetic (fight or flight): Activated during stress, urgency, or perceived threat.
- Parasympathetic (rest and digest): Activated during calm, restoration, and connection.
The goal of a morning routine isn’t to be impressive. It’s to support a smooth, regulated shift into wakefulness and presence.
In fact, some of the most effective strategies for supporting the parasympathetic system in the morning are shockingly simple:
- Sunlight exposure: A 2002 study from the University of Colorado found that even 20 minutes of morning sunlight helps regulate circadian rhythms and increase serotonin.
- Gentle movement: Not necessarily HIIT. A short walk, stretching, or intuitive yoga may calm the vagus nerve and help reduce cortisol spikes.
- Breathwork or mindful breathing: According to a 2017 study in Frontiers in Psychology, slow, deep breathing activates the parasympathetic nervous system and improves cognitive flexibility.
- Hydration and mineral support: Dehydration can worsen morning fatigue and stress. Warm water with a pinch of sea salt or a splash of lemon is simple but effective.
You don’t need a nine-step plan. You need to feel safe in your body—and your routine can reflect that.
The Inner Seasons Framework (How I Actually Use It)
I began noticing that my energy, needs, and mood moved in cycles—not just across the year, but across weeks and even days.
Here’s a simplified version of the framework I started using—loosely inspired by nature’s seasons, and adapted through my own lens:
Winter Mornings (Stillness + Restoration)
When I’m in recovery, grieving, or feeling depleted.
Morning practice: Keep it gentle. Hydration, silence, slow journaling, maybe a hot compress over the belly.
Mood cue: Tenderness, foggy brain, low resilience.
Spring Mornings (Curiosity + Renewal)
When I’m shifting out of a slump or beginning something new.
Morning practice: A light walk, upbeat playlist, creative writing.
Mood cue: Slight excitement, but still fragile. Needs encouragement, not intensity.
Summer Mornings (Productivity + Clarity)
When I’m in full focus or thriving mode.
Morning practice: Structured rituals, to-do list mapping, energy work, or high-output tasks.
Mood cue: Mental sharpness, physical energy, openness to challenge.
Autumn Mornings (Reflection + Boundaries)
When I’m integrating, releasing, or reassessing.
Morning practice: Gratitude writing, decluttering, setting intentions with limits.
Mood cue: Thoughtful, maybe emotional. Needs space and discernment.
This model is not prescriptive. It’s descriptive. And that’s the whole point.
You don’t build your life around the routine. You let the routine rise to meet the life you’re in.
Why This Matters for Mental Health
Rigid routines often reinforce all-or-nothing thinking—a known cognitive distortion in anxiety, depression, and perfectionism. It’s the voice that says: “If I can’t do the full routine, I’ve failed. Might as well give up.”
But flexible routines offer psychological safety. They allow for adaptation without collapse. They build self-trust, because your worth isn’t tied to a checklist. You become more attuned to what you need—not what the algorithm told you was optimal this week.
There’s also growing interest in self-regulation as a skill in trauma recovery. According to trauma researcher Dr. Bessel van der Kolk, predictable rhythms can help soothe the nervous system—but they need to be safe, not punishing.
So yes, structure matters. But self-knowledge matters more.
My Mornings Now
I wake up slowly. Some mornings, I light a candle. Others, I walk barefoot to the kitchen and pour water while the sky turns. Some mornings, I stretch and journal for twenty minutes. Others, I scroll (mindfully) and let myself just be for a while.
And when I do nothing but breathe and sip tea? I’m okay with that, too.
Because it’s not about being impressive anymore. It’s about being well.
And that includes mornings that reflect who I am today—not the version of me I wish I could maintain forever.
Wellness You Can Use
- Start your morning check-in with a feeling, not a to-do. Ask: What season am I in today? Then build from there.
- Choose one anchor habit that adapts easily. Something like “morning light” or “five deep breaths” works in all seasons.
- Ditch the “always” mindset. Your best routine is the one that bends—not breaks—when life shifts.
- Let rest count as a valid ritual. Doing less is not skipping. It’s responding wisely.
- Make peace with changing needs. A routine that honors your cycles is more sustainable—and more honest.
Your Mornings Don’t Need to Be Perfect to Be Sacred
In a culture obsessed with optimization, sometimes the most radical act is to be present.
To pause.
To ask yourself—not what should I do today?—but what do I need to feel grounded, nourished, and awake to my life?
Your mornings aren’t a test. They’re a threshold.
And you get to cross it in your own way. Every time.
