To Rituals

I have decided to up the status of my habits to rituals. Rituals are necessary, universal. They speak to the soul and organize the mind. They usher us between moments of our lives, maybe not with ease, but certainly with grace.

 

And so I honor the following rituals:

The Ritual of the Morning Text: one to Keith, who is sleeping when I leave for work at 7:10. Something small like "coffee was good this morning" or "don't forget to put the birthday card in the mail." And then usually one to my mom, "my red beans and rice last night were perfect. You would have been proud." Or "how's your weather today?" And then, as I gather my thoughts for the day as I prepare for class and send out the day's emails, I chat a bit. Reconnect.

The Ritual of The Airport Magazine Purchase: After the security check, I find the nearest magazine kiosk and begin The Perusal of the Covers. I pass the fashion magazines, Sports Illustrated, Popular Mechanics. I'm looking for Arts & Culture. I pick up The New Yorker, look at the poets, put it back. I buy Harpers. Every time.

The Ritual of the Cheese and Crackers. Every day, before dinner, I practice the sacrament of Cheese and Crackers. Four crackers laid out on a small plate. I pull the cheese slicer out of the drawer and then decide a cheese for the day: cheddar, monterey jack, maybe a creamy havarti. Thin slices. I carry them to my chair, eat slowly. Two bites each. Listen to the radio. News of the world.

 The Ritual of YouTube: practiced on Friday nights, during which I search for new Michael Jackson flash mob videos that remind me of the power to organize large groups of people if inspired by a single goal--a feeling that is lost by Friday afternoon. This restores my faith in humanity. People dancing in a mall. Commerce halted for the art.