Sunday morning ritual

I’ve been trying to make a habit of every Sunday morning heading out to a nearby park for a bit of immersion in nature. Something to counteract the busyness and seeming hecticness of the week. I’ve found this to be a very grounding exercise.

Living on a busy street, I’ve gotten used to the sounds of cars wooshing by nearly constantly. But I find I still notice and appreciate the absence of that sound. The woosh begins to dwindle in the wee hours of the morning, around 4am. That’s when the absence of cars becomes greater than the presence, and lasts until about 6:30am on weekdays. On weekends, and especially on Sundays, this quietness can stretch on to a very generous 8am.

During the Sunday ritual in the park, I am in the middle of the woods. I can hear a faint presence of nearby city streets, but over that I hear birds chirping, the chatter of a babbling brook, a squirrel snapping a twig on the ground, Isabel splashing through the water, my shoes crunching the ground underfoot. These are the sounds I look forward to every week. These are the sounds I commit to memory, to conjure in my mind when I need to create a quiet moment in the middle of the rush of the day.

What rituals and habits are you creating?

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