Today I Choose to be Consistent – How to be Consistent

Consistency isn’t glamorous. No one applauds you for showing up to the same desk every morning, for putting one foot in front of the other when you’d rather crawl back into bed. But when I look back at the things I’m proud of—raising kids who turned into thoughtful adults, building a career that still stands after decades of pivots, even holding my marriage through near-death moments—it’s not passion that held it together. It’s consistency. The decision to keep showing up, even when I was bone-tired, angry, or uninspired. Consistency doesn’t mean never wobbling; it means choosing to return, again and again. At this age, I find comfort in knowing I can rely on myself—not perfectly, but steadily enough to weather the storms.

I think about those years as a single mom, working multiple jobs, facing three foreclosure scares. What saved us wasn’t grand gestures or brilliant strategies. It was showing up to bartend even when exhausted. Making Jesse breakfast even when I’d had three hours of sleep. Paying what I could on the mortgage, every month, even when it wasn’t enough. Small, consistent acts that eventually added up to survival.

Or building Enlightenzz now. It’s not the days when inspiration strikes that matter most. It’s the mornings I write my three pages even when they’re garbage. The Saturdays I work on the website even when I’d rather binge Netflix. The consistency of showing up, even imperfectly, that’s slowly building something real.

The Unglamorous Truth About Consistency

Consistency is boring. It’s the same morning routine for the thousandth time. It’s another Monday at the same job. It’s cooking dinner when you’re not hungry, exercising when you’re not motivated, saving money you want to spend.

But here’s what I’ve learned: Boring builds foundations. Exciting builds stories. You need both, but without consistency, the exciting moments have nothing to stand on.

What Consistency Actually Creates

Trust
People know what to expect from me. Not perfection, but presence. My team knows I’ll deliver the reports. Curtis knows I’ll be there for his appointments. I know I’ll follow through on my commitments, even when I don’t feel like it.

Compound Results
Writing 500 words a day doesn’t feel like much. But after a year, that’s a book. Saving $50 a month seems pointless. But after a decade, it’s security. Consistency creates results that sporadic effort never could.

Identity
I’m a writer not because I had one inspired day, but because I write consistently. I’m reliable not because I never fail, but because I consistently return after failure.

Resilience
When Curtis was in the hospital, what saved me was my consistent routines. Morning coffee. Evening walk. Thursday calls with my friend. These consistencies became anchors in chaos.

Consistency vs. Rigidity

Consistency doesn’t mean never adapting. When Curtis got sick, my morning routine changed. When COVID hit, work patterns shifted. But the core consistency—showing up, doing what needs doing—remained.

Rigidity breaks under pressure. Consistency bends but returns to form. It’s the difference between a tree that snaps in a storm and one that sways but stays rooted.

The Different Faces of Consistency

Professional Consistency
After 10 years at the same struggling company, people joke about my loyalty. But it’s not loyalty—it’s consistency. The steady accumulation of knowledge, relationships, and credibility that comes from staying when others leave.

Creative Consistency
Those Dutch pour paintings? I’m not getting dramatically better. But I’m consistently creating. And in that consistency, slowly, technique emerges. Not from talent, but from repetition.

Relational Consistency
25+ years with Curtis isn’t about constant passion. It’s about consistently choosing each other. Through health crises, financial stress, parenting challenges. The consistency of “still here” when “somewhere else” would be easier.

Personal Consistency
Taking my medications every day. Walking most mornings. Calling my mom every Sunday. These aren’t exciting. But they’re the infrastructure of a functioning life.

Why Consistency Is So Hard

No Immediate Rewards
Consistency pays off in years, not days. Our brains want instant gratification. Consistency offers delayed satisfaction.

It’s Invisible
No one posts “Day 1,247 of showing up to work” on Instagram. Consistency doesn’t photograph well. It’s not shareable or likeable.

It Requires Faith
You have to believe that small actions accumulate. That showing up matters even when you can’t see progress. That’s hard when results are invisible.

Life Interrupts
Illness, crisis, exhaustion—they all challenge consistency. The key isn’t never breaking the chain, but restarting it quickly when it breaks.

Building Sustainable Consistency

Lower the Bar
Instead of “write for an hour,” commit to “write one sentence.” Instead of “exercise for 30 minutes,” commit to “put on workout clothes.” Make consistency so easy you can’t fail.

Track It
I mark an X on my calendar for every day I write. Simple, but seeing those Xs accumulate motivates me to not break the chain.

Attach to Existing Habits
I write morning pages with my coffee. Exercise while watching the news. Stack new consistencies onto old ones.

Forgive Imperfection
Missed a day? Start again tomorrow. Consistency isn’t about perfection; it’s about returning.

The Comfort of Consistency at 61

At this age, consistency is comforting. I know who I am because of what I consistently do. I trust myself because I have evidence of showing up. When everything else feels uncertain—health, economy, future—I can rely on my own consistency.

It’s not exciting. But it’s real. And after six decades, I’ll take real over exciting any day.

Today’s Choice

Today, choose to be consistent in one small thing. Not perfect, not inspired, just consistent. Show up to the page, the walk, the practice, the commitment. Even if you’re tired. Even if it’s imperfect. Even if no one notices.

Because consistency isn’t about the single day. It’s about the accumulation. It’s about becoming someone who can be counted on—by others, but most importantly, by yourself.

At 61, I’m not the most talented, passionate, or inspired. But I’m consistent. And that consistency has built a life that, while not glamorous, is solid. And solid, I’ve learned, is its own form of beautiful.