Published in Personal - 2 mins to read

I am very much a creature of habit; a lover of rituals. I am the sort of person who goes to the same café on the same day every week, and always orders the same thing. I do the same thing every day when I wake up, and I have the same evening routine every night before I go to sleep. Unless there’s leftovers from the previous night, I always eat the same thing. I run the same routes week in, week out, I have exactly one coffee every day, I write things I’m grateful for in my journal in the morning and then how my day has gone in the evening, the list goes on.

These rituals have blossomed during the second lockdown. I’ve been able to perform them consistenly, without having anything disrupt my schedule. I’ve loved it, and found some meditative quality to the simplicity at all - sometimes I even feel like a monk doing chores around my personal temple. This consistency is going to be disrupted soon as Guernsey is likely to move back to semblance of normality after next weekend, and even more so when I move in less than two month’s time. I won’t have a tried-and-true running route in London, I won’t have a favourite café where they alreay know my order, I might not be able to find the same brand of instant noodles that I consume by the box load. In a way that’s terrifying, as I know I’m going to have to begin a new ritual; that of trying something new and different every day. The only way I’m going to find the best Thai restaurant in walking distance is going to be by trying them all. The only way I’m going to find a running route that’s a perfect combination of fast, flat and scenic is going to be by exploring as many of the parks and streets of the capital as I can. The only way I’m going to be able to find the cosiest pub with the best drinks… you get the idea.

And by the end of the summer, I’m sure I’ll have a whole new set of rituals than the ones I have today. I’m very excited to see how they turn out.