On Rhythms & Small Rituals
What happens when the rhythms of life are off? Asynchronicity and a sense of "offness" lingers all around me. Perhaps, that's why it has taken me two months to write this first newsletter.
To the ancient, nature-worshipping Druids, time was not linear but rather, circular. An unending curve of rhythm and earthly ritual evident in the “months” of their Coligny calendar (above, taken from this book), which dates back to the 2nd century.
But what happens when these rhythms are off? When stay-home time bleeds into spring, summer, then fall… staining our sense of time for now nearly two pandemic years? Stay-home time should now begin yielding to March and time of ice & winds, and yet, we’ve been here before. We know deep down there is no guarantee we can collectively surrender to these familiar rhythms… not here, not quite yet.
This sense of asynchronicity (“offness”) seems to be lingering in many people I know, myself included. It’s, perhaps, why it has taken me months to write this newsletter. Willing my flat ass to sit in a chair and spin thoughts into cohesively-written words hasn’t been working, no matter how many stay-at-home hours I amass. Perhaps, it’s also why I quit social media for 2022. When the universal rhythms won’t bend to our will (spoiler: they never will), the only remaining solution is to re-establish personal rhythms. Ones that may not alter the seasons but may hold a protective shell around our anxious bodies, giving us just enough space to sync back with ourselves.
In his book, Oliver Burkeman writes, “We tend to speak about having a limited amount of time. But it might make more sense…. to say that we are a limited amount of time.” Quitting social media isn’t my attempt to “get time back”—the very notion of that is a fallacy. But it is an attempt to clear the static-y internet noise and allow myself to “be time” with more clarity, focus, and contentment. Three things this monkey-minded, ADHD-blessed brain is severely lacking.
I’ve done nothing earth shattering, I assure you. In fact, it’s all quite mundane. Like, I’m in bed by 10pm and up by 7am. I read at least 20 minutes of a physical book to start and end my day. I play pickleball weekly with my new pickleball friends (yes, I’m a closeted 65-year-old). I spend time perusing my cookbooks and meal planning on Sundays. Then, I order groceries for delivery, which is a new luxury I’m surprisingly enjoying. When I feel that familiar craving for screentime, I open my Duolingo app and work on my Spanish. Perhaps most importantly, I’m practicing sitting on my couch and doing absolutely nothing. I’ve yet to pass the three-minute mark.
These small rituals are a rope keeping me tethered to shore, especially right now when the time of winds feels pretty fucking gusty. I’ll gladly keep hanging on to it—and if I need to, braid together a new one—until the season changes once again and finally, along with it, the familiar rhythms return.
Seeing: David Hockney’s People, Places, Things exhibit at the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis. One of my all-time favorite artists.
Cooking: From my new cookbook Fresh India by Meera Sodha. She also writes a lovely vegan column for The Guardian, where you can find troves of her easy, Southeast Asian-inspired recipes.
Discovering: A pretty, new-to-me kitchen brand.
Listening: To this OnBeing episode where Pico Iyer interviews Liz Gilbert. I’ve listened four times, and it’s been my meditation for the new year. “I hope more and more to become a person who can live in the world as it is, whatever that is…I hope to be a person who can — whatever I can change about my lifestyle to help the fight against global warming, I will, but without losing my mind to the fear of it. So my hopes have been reduced to very small, intimate wishes for transformations interiorly that will make me be able to move through whatever comes without adding to the drama, the pain, and the chaos.”
Reading: Finished this excellent book and onto these short stories (my Good Reads is poppin’, plz be my friend).
Donating: To Ukraine and LGBTQIA+ youth in Texas & Florida. I encourage anyone with the means to do so.
Thank you for sticking with me as I figure out (and experiment!) with this newsletter and re-discover my writing voice, but mostly just for being here on this planet at this very moment. Sending hugs to anyone who needs them. xo! Holly
Yes Holly! Keep it up! I make duo sad every day need to do my Spanish too
Thank you for this glimpse into your world. It sounds like your new rhythms are bringing peace. What a lovely thing to hold in this moment.