Tiny Rituals


I grab jars of herbs intuitively. A pinch of this, a sprinkle of that. I allow myself to be guided towards whatever will nourish me most right now. Sometimes one plant fills the metal strainer, while others it’s a blend of many. The kettle boils and I fill the glass canister, leaving it on my bedside table to infuse while I sleep. Plant magic ready to flood my body upon waking.


I grimace at the breakfast mess. Peter’s face. The high chair. The floor. All covered in yogurt. Already I’m thinking about how many more messes I’ll clean up today. Before I reach for the cloth I pick up my phone and open Spotify. Soon “MmmBop” is blaring out of our speakers and I feel the energy of my carefree inner 11-year old rising within me. Peter giggles as my head bobs from side to side while wiping the floor. Soon I’m giggling too, finding joy and alignment in this silly, mundane moment.


We both sit on the bed. Tarot decks and pens and notebooks lie scattered around us. Peter laughs as he picks up a deck of cards and they fall on his lap. His attention is pulled to his abacus and then to my pen and then to my notebook. He ends up pushing the box from the Divina deck around the bed. I pull out cards and jot down the messages that intuitively flow from my pen onto the paper. It’s not calm or serene but I’m happy to be back with the cards.


I read aloud. From Rupi Kaur. Nikita Gill. Abraham Hicks. The words nourishing my soul and stimulating his growing knowledge of language.


I feel myself rushing and that familiar frenetic energy rising. Already my mind is way ahead of my body. “Give Peter his vitamins. Finish plating the food. Pour us all a glass of water. And then.. and then… and then.” Suddenly I’ve mentally talked myself through the entire rest of the day, each step spurring me on to go a bit faster and make sure it all happens. My friend Jayne’s voice cuts through the noise, repeating her favourite mantra: “Breathe. Slow down. Feel more.” I pause, placing a hand on my belly. Inhale deeply. Suspend the breath. Exhale. Repeat. Repeat. My mind slows. My physiology shifts. My focuses comes back to the present moment.


When my anxiety is high, when the overwhelm has set in, when the boredom is threatening to tear me a part, when I’m feeling grumpy and stuck, I know that if I can just get my shoes on, get Peter in the sling, and get out the door, that I’ll feel better. I walk to stay sane. I walk to keep him entertained without having to actively engage for a few minutes. I walk because it clears my head and then the ideas flow better. Sometimes it’s just quick walk around the corner to Tesco in the pouring rain. Other days we traipse for thousands and thousands of steps with no particular destination in mind. Either way, life always flows a little bit better after a walk.


While he’s nursing I whisper to him about my hopes and dreams. About everything I wish for our future. All of the wonderful things he’ll be able to experience. What I want to do and be and have and create. I figure that all of the oxytocin flowing while breastfeeding must make me a supercharged manifesting maven, right? So I might as well take advantage of it.


Baby in my arms, music on the stereo, dancing around the living room. A surefire recipe for instant alignment & flow.


I’m awake for what feels like the hundredth time in one night when I notice the moonlight shining through a crack in the curtains. I imagine my body bathing in her radiance, her light flooding my body and filling every crevice. I thank her and whisper everything I’m grateful for. I tell her what I want most in the world. Who I’m ready to be. What skins I’m ready to shed. And so it is.


A few drops of lavender on my pillow. A mug of milky chamomile tea with honey. I can’t promise myself a good night’s sleep in this season of my life but I can still soothe my nervous system in these small ways.


I smudge Root & Flower’s Base Chakra oil on my pulse points and take a few long, deep breaths to ground myself back into my body.

I used to think of my daily routines as works of art and sculpted them for maximum productivity, magic, and spiritual connection. These days, my life looks like a ball of string. There’s very little routine. Very little time alone.

But more and more I’m learning that every moment offers us a chance for tiny rituals and ceremonies, if I can bring my attention to what I need and offer it to myself in whatever way I can. All of these tiny moments add up. Our intention and willingness to treat everything as sacred is what infuses our lives with magic and meaning.

1 Comment

  1. Gosia
    April 4, 2018 / 3:51 pm

    Oh my world, this is so beautiful.

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