The 90/10 rule. Perfection is killing you. Rhythm is begging you.

Here's how to come back to yourself.

One of my 10% nights. The win is what you return to next.

We’re a week into December.

If your rhythm slipped over the last week because of travel, guests, sugar, or just life, you may be tempted to start over on Monday.
Or in January.
Don’t.

A missed anchor does not require a dramatic reset.
It requires a return.

I use what I call the 90/10 Rule in my own life.
It gives me a way to stay in relationship with the rhythm even when the day doesn’t go according to plan.

Here’s what perfection sounds like:

If I can’t keep it up, what’s the point?
I had dessert at lunch, so I might as well keep going and start again Monday.
I missed my lunch window. This isn’t working for me right now. I’m too busy.
Travel blew my schedule. I’ll reset in January.

Perfection is fragile.
One late meeting, one guest, one holiday, one travel day, and suddenly the whole plan feels gone.

Rhythm gives you somewhere to return.

My life includes travel, work projects, family demands, holidays, and seasons when the structure gets messy.
I could always make a case for waiting until things settle down.
But “settled down” is a moving target.

One woman once told me she would get back to herself after her kids left home.
Her youngest was five.
Holy shit.
That’s a long time to wait for your own life.

So I use a different measure.
How quickly do I return?
That’s the metric.

The 90/10 Rule

90/10 isn’t about “good” food and “bad” food.
It’s about rhythm.

Most of the time, you practice the anchors you chose.
Some of the time, life bends them.
Late dinners. Travel. Parties. Takeout. Weird timing. Zero cooking. A child who needs you. A deadline that ate the afternoon.

The win isn’t avoiding every messy day.
The win is knowing:
I can miss an anchor and still trust myself to come back at the next available one.

The miss matters less than the distance between the miss and the return.
That’s return rate.

Let’s make that concrete with lunch.

On a 90% day, this might look like:

• Simple kitchari or lentil soup you made once and reheated

• Warm leftovers from last night

• A quick sauté of veggies + egg + rice

On a 10% day, it might look like:

• Lunch at 2:30 after back-to-back meetings

• Airport food at a weird hour

• Chips and dip before a party because you never actually stopped to eat

• Oops, lunch was coffee and a cookie

Here’s where perfection and rhythm think differently

Perfection brain

I blew it.
I’ll skip dinner
I’ll restart on Monday
I need a full reset.

Rhythm brain

Okay, that was my 10%. What’s the next anchor available to me?

Maybe dinner can’t happen at your ideal time. Fine.
You can still choose something deliberately.

A warm plate instead of grazing.
Sitting down instead of hovering over the sink.
A clear stopping point instead of letting the evening blur into whatever happens next.

You’re shortening the distance between the miss and the return.
That distance is what I want you to watch.
One missed lunch doesn’t have to become a missed dinner, a late night, a lost morning, and a promise to start again next week.

You get another decision. Use it.
And keep the number of anchors small enough that you can actually recognize them.
Two or three is plenty to begin.

For example:
Lunch: a protected window for a warm meal
Evening: a time when screens go away
Movement: a short walk, stretch, or morning practice

These are your home base.
You aren’t grading yourself on an uninterrupted streak.
You’re watching:
How quickly did I notice?
What did I return to?
What made the return easier or harder?

That’s useful data.

How to use 90/10 this week

Use it now, inside the holidays, travel, deadlines, family demands, or whatever’s making this week less tidy than you wish it were.

Name your 10% ahead of time
Look at the next 7 days.
Where do you already know rhythm will bend?

• Holiday party Thursday night

• Travel day next weekend

• Big project deadline mid-week

• Kids’ event at dinner time

Mark those as your likely 10% pockets.
You’re deciding in advance where flexibility belongs:
These are the places where I’ll flex. I’m committed to returning at my very next available anchor.

When the rhythm bends, ask only this:
At the first moment you notice you’re off, pause and ask:
What’s the very next anchor I can return to?

If lunch went sideways, maybe it’s your afternoon walk. Or dinner.
If dinner was chaos, maybe it’s your morning practice. Or tomorrow’s warm, on-time lunch.
If today feels gone, protect tomorrow’s first anchor.

Then follow through.
Every deliberate return gives you evidence that one miss doesn’t have to decide what happens next.

What self-referral looks like

• I decided what supports me.

• I gave those decisions a shape: a lunch window, a few return points, a rhythm I can recognize.

• I expect life to bend it sometimes.

• When it does, I notice.

• Then I come back.

• I trust myself to return without turning one messy meal, day, or week into a verdict about who I am.

That’s self-referral.
You’re still responding to real life.
Your own signals simply get a place in the decision too.

Try this for the next 7 days

1. Pick your 2–3 anchors.
   If you choose nothing else, choose a lunch window you can realistically protect.

2. Circle your likely 10% days.
   Parties, travel, deadlines, family demands. Mark them without drama. These are places where you already know the rhythm may bend.

3. When the rhythm bends, shorten the distance.
   Ask: What anchor can I return to next?
   Then return.

4. At the end of the week, look back:

   • How many times did I notice I was off rhythm?

   • How quickly did I return?

   • Which anchor was easiest to come back to?

   • Which one disappeared first when life got loud?

   • What did I notice about my afternoons and evenings?

You’re not looking for a perfect week.
You’re looking for your return rate.

How quickly did you come back?
What helped?
What got in the way?

That’s your data.

Eat warm, breathe slow, keep a rhythm

— Savitree