THE LITTLE THINGS THAT KEEP US GOING E

very age has its share of thinkers and theorists who ponder and fret over our daily routines and rituals. And this is for a good reason. As Aristotle famously observed, “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence then is not an act, but a habit.” people’s daily routines and rituals. And here, we might note that habit and ritual are different sides of the same coin. Routine or habit tames the chaos of everyday life, while ritual adds an element of the magical. Perhaps we can say that the structure of habit comforts us, while ritual’s uniqueness vitalizes us.

Since I was a girl, friends and family have accused me of maintaining some strange habits. For example, I am told that it is a little weird to get up every day at 4 a.m. Others, of course, admire this custom (strangely, these admirers tend to be early risers like myself). Of course, starting my day so early means that I tend not to have much of a social life past, say, 8 pm. But that’s ok. The early morning is, for me, a time of great serenity. I’m able to plan my day. And the phone rarely rings.

Strange habits run in my family. My grandpa used his morning walks to count things in his neighbourhood. What things he counted didn’t seem to matter. Some days it would be yellow doors. On other days it would be white cats. After his morning constitutional, he would discuss the significance of his findings at the breakfast table with everyone who wanted to listen.

And then there is the curious case of an old school friend who did a handstand before every exam. She believed that being upside down would provide more perspective on the subject. Perhaps she was right, as she became a successful businesswoman.

At the heart of habit is discipline, which gradually becomes a ritual. But ritual demands that things be done in the proper order. For example, making coffee at the same time every morning would never be the same if it didn’t follow certain delineated steps: putting on the kettle, using your special mug, smelling the aroma, and drinking it in a particular place where you can watch the sun come up is what makes an ordinary habit a ceremony infused with meaning. This simple act contains the discipline of habit and the magic of ritual. If we vary these steps, the coffee will not taste good, and the day will feel off-balance.

It is ironic, but the mundane comforts of routine and ritual allow us the freedom to reflect and make sense of life. The American writer Anne Lamott captures this paradox perfectly:

“Here’s the true secret of life: We mostly do everything repeatedly. In the morning, we let the dogs out, make coffee, read the paper, and help whoever is around get ready for the day. We do our work. In the afternoon, if we have left, we come home, put down our keys and satchels, let the dogs out, take off constrictive clothing, make a drink or put water on for tea, and toast the leftover bit of scone. I love ritual and repetition. Without them, I would be a balloon with a slow leak.”

My routines and rituals are well established. I find comfort in their simplicity. These non-negotiable things take away the need for overthinking and bring me joy. The moments when the coffee tastes just right are priceless. I am energized by watching the morning sun come up over the sea at my home in Hua Hin. So my friends are, of course, at liberty to chatter and gossip about my curious sleeping habits. But I will maintain the habit of rising early.

And if it is true, as the philosophers tell us, that life is to be measured by being fully present, then don’t we all want our moments to be enchanted and infused with meaning? And it is the little things – the habit and rituals of ordinary, daily life – that provide that magic.

By Marita Bester Maria Bester is a freelance writer. You can follow her on Instagram @marita_bester