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the very acts which take precedence over the chaos outside of them

Small rituals keep us safe. They guarantee us a particular degree of certainty.

 

They’re there for us devoid of the association of people, time and space. They are the very acts which take precedence over the chaos outside of them.

 

They’re there when we wake up in the morning and just before we fall asleep at night. There in the dead of night when we can’t sleep and the long stretch of day when we’re unable to focus.

 

Rituals are one of the only forms of repetition which aid normality in a time of mass unknowns.

 

Ritual for me looks like a walk to Tower Bridge before dusk no matter what is happening, despite any weather and auxiliary to every other demand. It reminds me why I’m here, and that here is my home.

 

Ritual to me looks like spending the first waking minutes of the day laying halfway out the window, half naked and wrapped in linen sheets to simply look at the empty streets and acknowledge the stillness.

 

Ritual for me looks like going out to do groceries and buy tulips on a Thursday.

 

Ritual to me looks like a dedicated hour on a Wednesday to talk through the week with someone I trust.

 

Ritual to me looks writing letters to myself and posting them home to Australia to read some day far away from now.

 

Ritual to me looks like long runs in the morning and yoga and a bath on a Sunday evening.

 

 

Sometimes a ritualistic life looks like a regimented one. Sometimes it looks like a drastic one. Sometimes it is.

 

But it’s also a life that puts lines in place,

So that you may colour outside them when things feel okay again.

APRIL 09

By Sophie Peterson.

All work is my own unless otherwise stated.

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