Notes on Morning Rituals
Having your very own morning ritual is like believing in a religion, in which you worship yourself.
I like to see it as my very own form of witchcraft, setting myself up to start the day with a magic potion (black coffee) and a spell (journal entry) and my trusty familiar (the neighbourhood stray that I’m allergic to).
Morning rituals are integral parts of some religions. If practicing Hinduism, you might be starting your day with a bath, or affirmations, potentially an offering to the sun god? In Islam you are starting your day facing Mecca and reciting your dawn prayer (Fajr). Or if you’re more spiritual you might light an incense stick, or light a candle at your altar that honours loved ones who have passed away.
There are fairly clear links between most of these rituals;
Cleansing oneself.
Meditating/Chanting/Praying.
Using sacred symbols or objects.
So for those who don’t practise religion, I suggest you change that, and start practising the religion of selfcare. It’s cheesy and overused and the internet is drowning in media about it, but there’s got to be something to it if all of these religions have been doing it in one way or another, for hundreds of years.
Cleansing oneself; Simple. Take a shower, a bath, or rinse your face with water to wash the sleep out of your eyes.
Meditating/Chanting/Praying; This one is more up for discussion I think, it can be something as simple as hyping yourself up for the annoying task you have to complete that day. Or reminding yourself before the first date you’re literally the hottest commodity on the market (it’s true). Or even saying thank you to yourself for the coffee you’ve just made.
Using sacred symbols or objects; This is my favourite one. My sacred object one day is my favourite mug that I will drink my coffee out of that morning. Another day is the pair of gold hoop earrings I inherited when my Avó passed away. Another day it’s flicking through the art magazine I found in a charity shop. Another day it’s simply noticing all the sun symbols I can throughout my morning.
I suggest coming up with your own ritual based on the above pillars, because after a quick google search, you’re bombarded with 101 and ways to “START YOUR DAY THE RIGHT WAY” and “3 Simple Morning Rituals that will Change Your Life!” or perhaps you need “10 Morning affirmations to let you be your best self <3”.
The irony is that while laying in bed and scrolling through tiktok looking for helpful rituals I could incorporate into my mornings, I have saved a few different videos, but I have also wasted an hour in bed and in fact I do not have time for a lovely morning ritual anymore. Maybe tomorrow?
I painted this piece in an attempt to inspire myself to take a little more time in the mornings. Funnily enough, this is the longest a painting has ever taken me to complete, and she really was a practice in patience and dedication. Perhaps this is one of my rituals in itself?
So if you need inspiration as well, let us look to this woman, who really has her morning ritual perfected:
The first thing that is setting her up for a good start to the day, is the fact that she lives somewhere sunny and in the countryside, potentially France? Italy? Portugal? Spain? Greece? You can choose.
She’s woken up naturally of course, because she doesn’t need to use curtains in the countryside, and the daylight wakes her gently at a reasonable hour, something in between 7-8am.
She sleeps naked because the heat is just too much otherwise, and when she gets out of bed she slips on her nightgown, light enough that the stifling heat doesn’t cause it to stick to her with sweat for at least the first hour.
She walks into her kitchen where she makes herself a moka pot of coffee, and picks up her favourite blue cup and saucer from her dish rack. It sits there every day because it’s the only one she uses. It doesn’t even have a place in the cupboard, because it’s perpetually in use. She can’t remember where she got this cup and saucer but she has had it since she moved to said European countryside home.
She hears a meow just as her moka pot has finished spluttering, and takes a seat outside next to her fuchsia bush where her adopted cat (adopted from where, we do not know) rolls in the dust underneath it.
Her journal is sitting on the table from the day before, there is no one around to pick it up and skim through it, and no chance of wind or rain any time soon, so it is safe there.
She opens it, and starts writing and sipping her coffee until she is finished; writing and sipping.
She is alone, happily, but can feel the presence of us, the ever so envious bystander floating in the dust that the cat kicks up. Vibrating in the heatwaves that rise over the dirt.
She doesn’t burn her sage to try to rid us from her space, but she gives us a warning look, and we understand that no matter what we do, we must not disturb this perfect morning ritual.
She is what I aspire to be. She is what I will eventually be. I just need to get rid of my cat allergy.