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.

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C) Marika Reinke – Adventures in Art with Heart, Humor and Spirit.