Coffee. Journal. Meditation. Movement. My morning ritual.
Some people swear a ritual makes the day better. Some days, I swear if a day could be worse, what would it be without it?
It is better than rushing out the door as I gulp down my coffee and stuff my face. It’s better than a never-ending ache for time alone to think. It’s better than insisting I don’t have time to pay myself some time. My time is the morning and my quiet, rhythmic ritual.
It’s like a warm up for a workout; a necessary prelude to the day. The older I get, the more I need it too. My body-mind won’t operate without a little shaking out each morning.
I return from the ritual a little cleaner. The world a little neater. My mind a slight more organized. Nothing perfect, but I’ve swiped more ready-energy and dusted my nerves with calm.
The day’s remainder is hardly habit and anti-ritual. I can invite its un-structure now.
C) Marika Reinke – Adventures in Art with Heart, Humor and Spirit.