Rituals
I wrote this essay in March 2022 for a dutch blog about living with chronical illness.
After the game, we went to one of those famous fast-food restaurants for a quick visit. It was the last hour and we just wanted to grab a shake before we drove home. When we entered, there was a man sitting at a table in a corner eating his burger, deep in conversation with the vacuum. He was fiercely arguing and the other, invisible side clearly had their opinions too.
My friends looked at it quizzically and chuckled a bit. “A tic’, in the end, was the verdict. 'That man is not in his right mind, let's sit on the other side.'
It bothered me: after all, I know that I also talk to the air sometimes and so I felt addressed.
I talk to myself to safely sort out my emotions, get my own thoughts back in order and discover what is really important to me. After this, I often feel more confident again and find it easier to discuss that difficult subject with my sweetheart, for example.
I know I shouldn't be so hard on myself about this, because this way the world does become more manageable for me, but still, it is and remains weird.
The coffee break, a tea or a cigarette, they give you that break you need to come back to yourself and get on with the rest of the day. Sometimes we just need a time-out to rebalance, calibrate and take direction.
But when the world around you often becomes too much for you, these small actions don't always help anymore. To keep you mentally on your feet a bit more, you then need something bigger:
Rituals
Rituals arise at the edge of our understanding. As soon as we can't grasp or control something, we create rituals. Magical acts by which we try to bend the incomprehensible world back to our will. Well, you can think of the rituals of indigenous peoples, doing a rain dance, but we 'modern' people also have such magical rituals.
Just think of your morning routine, my sweetheart's for instance invariably goes in the same order, otherwise his day already starts badly. Or an athlete, I know one who always has to wear the same pair of lucky socks at every important match to increase his chances of winning. And as a child, when crossing the road, you were probably only allowed to step on the white stripes of the zebra crossing, because otherwise you don't know what weird thing could happen to you.
Personally, to cope with my high sensitivity, I have developed a whole series of personal rituals. One of the most important rituals is to shower in the dark at night. If I cannot avoid stimuli during the day, I calm my nervous system that way. If I don't shower at such a time, I sleep badly, am guaranteed to have a headache the next day and my whole nervous system hurts.
To minimise overstimulation, I also have a list of 'excuses' ready to leave somewhere earlier. During a birthday visit, I invariably walk to the bookcase several times during the party to escape from the crowd and silently browse through unread titles.
And so to get back to myself after a hefty discussion, I walk around talking to the air.
I used to get annoyed with myself when, once again, I preferred to play with the cat rather than engage in conversation. I judged my behaviour as a weakness, as an excuse, a stupid action I just couldn't resist.
I felt weird, tapped out, in other words, someone with a tic.
But fortunately, I know better now and actually use those rituals effectively to get me through a busy day in a positive way, because I know I'm only getting in my own way if I don't.
Like today.
It was a weird day where nothing went according to plan. Besides wanting to write this piece, I spontaneously sat next door for coffee, a friend came to share his grief later, dinner had to be on the table on time and we ploughed the vegetable garden with a monster of a machine. So a lot of stimuli for me.
That is why I am now sitting on the sofa with freshly washed hair and a tea, with the cat on my lap and deciding: I will make that granola tomorrow.
Now I'm curious though, what rituals help you get through a busy day like this?
With Love,
Daphne