Luxurious Moments by Diane

Rituals turn tasks into luxurious moments of mindful respite and love.  Together, time, intention and energy create meaningful ritualized moments that nourish and sustain. 

I have developed solo and shared rituals that give me a sense of pride and add to my bank of joy. 

There is a rhythm and cadence to the acts of a ritual. Some are mundane, like filling and running a dishwasher before bed or starting a load of laundry upon returning home.  They are tasks, perhaps but I have small elements of pride in the process and way I do each.  I don’t waste time and I do act with intention and care. 

Other rituals, particularly those that address my body, spirit are harder for me to make time for.    I don’t recall many rituals from childhood.  I participated in the rituals of our home, dictated by my mother:  set and clear the table for dinner, crush cans to flatten them (a joyous squash of my foot on the pavement), stacking coins to literally watch them add up..  I don’t remember washing my face or body daily, nor my teeth. 

I discovered a deep joy of creating meaning in rituals when I spent a week at Rancho La Puerta, an organic spa in Tecate Mexico.  There, we were invited to participate in group rituals.  No one took attendance nor cared what you did or didn’t do.  There was collective modeling of self-care and love. 

I didn’t know I would learn about rituals by going.  I had just heard the food was good, had a low-key vibe and most importantly, traveling alone was common, welcomed.  I first went feeling like a bird with a broken wing that couldn’t expand to catch air.   Just 9 months earlier, my mother-in-law had committed suicide an hour after I had left her bedside at Swedish hospital.  That event was jarring but it was the collective responsibilities of my 3 sons and now grieving father-in-law that had worn me down to tissue.  I could barely hold myself up yet was trying my best.  At that time, two of my sons were in school with IEPs and significant learning and behavioral challenges.  My oldest had aged out of high school without a degree and was at home unable to find traction.  My father-in-law, so traumatized, was barely functional and needed added care and oversight.  I don’t remember where I found the $5000 to go or how I justified myself about spending it on myself, but I knew if I didn’t go, I could not carry on.  I trusted my gut and went.  My sister Kathy came to stay and watch over the boys and house so I could go.      

As a solo traveler, I had to initiate my participation and push through my social phobia and shyness.  That act of initiation and ownership is required for every ritual.  The most resonant ritual was our predawn hike up the mountain.  The sprawling grounds held just a few dozen casitas comprising 120 guests.  Thus, walking from my casita perched on the outer band of the ranch meant a 10-minute walk in the dark, to the gathering spot, a large casita.  There, I’d grab a hot tea and coffee, a piece of the fresh cut bananas and grapefruit and say hello to fellow travelers.  Maybe 20 of us would spend the next 2 hours hiking up the mountain paths.  The rising sun would cast a warm welcome at some juncture and the horizon of the mountainous region would be framed in shades of pink, yellow and blue We’d finish and again were invited to stretch and gather for a hearty breakfast.  I began alone and often sat with 3-4 new friends. 

Because there weren’t any rules, requirements, expectations, Rancho La Puerta was a model of others engaging in healthy rituals on a daily basis.  At the end of the week, I had developed the practice of spending time caring more deeply for my body, mind, and desire for connection. 

Going to the Ranch became an annual solo ritual of renewal.  It was an extravagant expense.  It also felt like a nourishing week of self-care that made it possible for the other 51 weeks. 

My solo rituals are self-care and home care.   Daily it is how I care for my skin, teeth, hair, nails, mind.  My home rituals are related to the things my family and I use:  dishes and utensils that need to be cleaned daily, dirty clothes that need laundering daily.

I have a small, expensive ritual of buying morning coffee at Starbucks.  I am a proud Starbucks customer.  The company trains their baristas to provide consistent results and I am rarely disappointed.  Yes, it is expensive and maybe it is a trick, but I savor my extra hot no foam soy latte.  

When at home, making coffee is special to me. I grind my coffee beans, and my mind smiles as the aroma of the roasted shell and oily bean.  I heat the water in the kettle and pour over the french press.  While it steeps, I cook breakfast, usually eggs or homemade oatmeal as my brother in law Jon  taught me.  

My rituals for connecting with others are powerful reminders of my essence to give and receive love. 

Upon learning of good news from a friend, I take delight in my ritual of sending acknowledgement with a custom crafted digital note.  I connect with my sons who come to me for back rubs, scratches, hugs, daily.  I try to think about one meal a day where I can give food to them.  I have friends whom I walk regularly with my dog and birthdays of family members are marked with a song.  My sons and I gather around a hot pot when we want to mark a holiday or share good feelings. 

The rituals I do are what make up the rhythm of my life.  There is a mindful cadence in the physicality of preparing, brushing, cleaning, rubbing, walking, washing. 

My favorite daily ritual is walking for the many sensorial gifts of weather, environment, color, texture and light.  In my overly saturated life of competing demands, stepping outside for a walk is delightful.  Yet, I have to talk myself into it every time.  I have work to do, and other priorities.  Thankfully, my dog Kent with his energizer tail is the best motivator and gets me out the door 2-3 times a day. 

As Kent bounds into the fresh air, cold, rain leading me to the woods near my home, his rituals become parallel to mine.  There in the woods, I can take off his leash and watch him streak towards the squirrels and fellow explorers.  I now move slower, assured he is content and starts to take in the smell and visual splendor of my surroundings.  Today, the air is cool, abrupt and the felled leaves of yellow, green and brown matted down along the paths.   

Rituals don’t just repeat a task or routine. They lift my spirit and connect the phases of my day.