Rituals

Three minutes before the day begins.

One deliberate act, done properly.

Making the first drink into a beginning.

Water as a boundary between sleep and day.

A page written before the day arrives.

Waking the body before the inbox.

Ninety seconds of outside air.

Choosing the day's centre before it chooses you.

A closing that is not scrolling.

The last warm thing of the day.

Lowering the light gradually.

For a body that held the day too tightly.

A closing ritual for days that went badly.

One surface, cleared.

Reading, deliberately, before sleep.

Five minutes of contact.

Attention given to one living thing.

Twenty minutes, no route.

Soil, dough, water, wool.

A Sunday ritual for the week to come.

Ten minutes at the window.

A written check-in for a crowded head.

Written now, read later.

No lists. One thing, in detail.

For something you cannot say yet.

Three questions, honestly.

Small evidence, collected.

Finding the accurate word.