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.

For a body that held the day too tightly.

A closing ritual for days that went badly.

One surface, cleared.

Five minutes of contact.

Attention given to one living thing.

Ten minutes at the window.

A written check-in for a crowded head.

No lists. One thing, in detail.

For something you cannot say yet.

Three questions, honestly.

Small evidence, collected.

Finding the accurate word.