Rituals
I am nothing without my little lists
This is a collaboration post with the ever so wonderful Dominic💕 in which we write about our thoughts around rituals. Enjoy, and do check out some more of his work! He writes some beautiful fiction :)
I wake up, and I check my phone. A quick scroll through the notifications. Anything worth responding to? Unlikely. Anything important? Definitely. My daily bank statement pops up. I delete it quickly, not wanting to look at how bad the figures are.
Rolling out of bed, I trudge over to my window, throw open the curtains and open the window properly. ‘Lüften!’ I hear my German ancestors calling. A wash of cold, Scottish air spills around the leaning glass. The clothes I pull on are randomly selected from the assortment on the floor and chair around me. Maybe I’ll pull something fresh from my wardrobe, if I tidied the floor recently.
Underwear. Left sock, right sock. Trousers, top. Hair up in a ponytail. If I recently washed it, a hairclaw.
I step out of my room, taking a couple of steps down the stairs before looking to my left. My dog is lounging in another bedroom, nose or paws peeking out from under the covers. I dart over to her, give her a little pet and kiss on the head, then resume my descent.
In the kitchen, I grind beans. Every morning, fresh coffee beans. Whether it is a cup for me, the cafetiere in my old flat, or the drip machine here, I will grind those damn beans. The rich, earthy scents caress my nostrils, coaxing me to alertness.
I like my little rituals. My routines that I sprinkle throughout the day. They give me a sense of normality, of peace and safety that I don’t have the rest of the time. When I still worked a 9-5, I had a lot more of that feeling. But now, as when I worked in retail or was at uni, I have to create my own routine.
This time of year is full of rituals. The darker months seem to coax the craving for ceremony from our simple little souls. From Dongzhi to Samhain, Hanukkah to Diwali, something about the cold and the gloom brings us together. Lights burning bright in the long nights.
Here, in Scotland, we have a lot of traditions. Celtic, Norse, Roman, Christian, this country was invaded and influenced and colonised by many people. We have Samhain (SAH-win), one supposed origin of Halloween, celebrated on October 31st as well. Marked with bonfires, dancing, and honouring their dead. We have Hogmanay (HOG-mə-nay), the Scots name for our New Year’s celebrations. In Edinburgh, this is marked with torchlight processions, oft with a head of people in Norse clothing, followed by music, fireworks and bonfires. We have Christmas, on December 25th, although I celebrate on the 24th because of my German family.
Beyond opening presents, like for most people that celebrate it, I have developed a personal ritual over the last 7 years. I bought a martini glass bauble when I first left for university, freshly 17, scared and alone. Once the rest of the decorating has been done, I take a moment to place this bauble on a branch of our pine tree, the needles prickling the skin of my fingers. I take a breath, and reminisce on everything that I have done since I first left home. Honouring the old me, the present me, and smiling for what the future me could become.
Away from holidays, I have rituals I need to feel calm and comfortable out in the world.
I wear the same three rings, on the same three fingers, and I put them on in the same order every time.
I have to have one hand in a pocket or on a bag, or I feel unbalanced and incomplete.
When I perform, I spray the same perfume on myself as I finish getting dressed, sealing in the persona and creating an ephemeral barrier between me and the world.
I wash rice 7 times, letting the water, and my mind, run clear.
Washing my face always follows the same order, the areas of my face each following one another precisely. Left eye, right eye, forehead. Left temple, right temple, nose. Left cheek, right cheek, chin and neck.
Maybe it’s something undiagnosed. Maybe it’s just that these rituals, these small moments of solitude and routine, allow me to exercise the little control I can always have.
Left foot into the shoe, then the right foot. Tie the left laces, then the right.
Maybe that’s all any of our rituals are. In a world where we never really have control, be it now or millennia in the past, all we truly can have control over is ourselves. Coming together, with ones we know and love, creating light and warmth in the darkest of times. It lets us have control. Safety. Peace.
So cling to your rituals, hold them tight. They are precious. Tradition, ceremony, routine. Whether you go to church every Sunday, or simply read a page of a new novel every morning, keep them close to you.
I hope, that in these dark times, you manage to find a little control. A little safety. A little peace.
I do not have a good relationship with routine. We consistently fall out with each other, always wanting too much from the other. Okay, let me start again.
I used to have a bad relationship with routine. For a long time it seemed like we would never be able to get along. Either I relied on a strong routine more than I should have, or the whole thing would be completely sacked off rather than trying to work it out. Having a rhythm to my day helps it pass more smoothly. If I know all of the things that I need to do, and the times of when they are happening, everything feels safe. But life does not always work out like that — it can often be unpredictable.
Before, I lived a very strict life. Wake up at a certain time, set some tasks for the day and tick them off a list, stay as productive as possible. What if I want to lie in? Or I want to watch TV all day? What then? If I strayed from the routine I would feel so guilty, my brain would be stewing away at all the time lost being ‘lazy’.
But where routine failed me, rituals found me and lifted me back up.
We are all human, we all need our vices — something to keep us going, to keep us wanting to make it through each day that passes. Not all rituals have to be something fun, though. Each week one of my rituals is to clean the house. I make the time, I set myself a couple of hours aside, and I get it done. During the cleaning I may not feel happy about it, but afterwards the relief I feel from having a tidy space washes over me. Then I realise how doing chores is worth it.
The beauty of rituals is that I have learnt so much about myself in the process. I listen to music at least once a day, either whilst commuting or writing/cooking, and it perks my mood right up. I have to have a cup of tea every morning, without fail. The minute I walk into the kitchen in the morning my stomach is grumbling for me to stick the kettle on. If I know that I will struggle to find time to sit down for one, I take one with me. Maybe I have a slight caffeine addiction, or maybe having tea is always one thing that I can rely on.
Other rituals include always lighting the candles in my living room so that I feel extra cosy, making time to journal each day so that my brain won’t get bogged down with too many thoughts, and doing little things to show care to myself — like applying lip balm every five minutes or taming the bedhead before I go out.
At the moment it feels as though all of my days blur into one. The minute that I can finally catch a break I end up slouched in my armchair, spirit broken and tired. My rituals keep me going. I can plan my days around them.
I will always be someone who has to make lists for everything, that’s just how my brain works. Minor inconvenience? I’ll be writing more lists than Patrick Bateman having videotapes to return. I even asked for a 2026 planner for Christmas to help me keep track of things. Slight organisation works for me, just not the full-blown shebang. And that’s okay.
Whatever it is that keeps you putting one foot in front of the other is worth holding onto tight. Always feed into it. It is so important to bring as much joy into your life as possible. Treasure your rituals, they’ll always have your back.
More from Dominic:
 | A guest post by
|
Oh gurrlll i LOVE your narrative pieces! 😍😍😍😍
both of these essays were so lovely and an absolute pleasure to read!!!! rituals are such comforts, and I love Ellen's comparison between rituals and routines and I agree with so many points you make!! routines don't work for me either, but rituals seem to. every morning, I make myself a cup of cold cocoa and write whatever's on my mind. it makes the rest of my day seem so much more bearable <3