The small rituals I return to when I feel myself slipping out of alignment.
I have a particular tell that sets off an alarm in my mind.
It shows up when my self-care starts to slip. Before I fully name overwhelm, before I call it sadness, I can feel it.
I stop doing the things that bring ease into my day. The things that help me feel connected to my body. The things that allow me to present as the highest version of me.
Simple things start to feel like a chore.
Doing my hair.
Shaving my legs.
Putting on mascara.
I can hear the voices of my ancestors whispering, "mija, y esas greñas. Peinate." And I answer back, "por fa, dejenme tranquila. This is the best I can do right now."
I skip the small rituals. I don't take the time to layer oil and body cream. My eyebrows get fuzzy. I forget about perfume, or even a light dab of essential oil.
I stop decorating my body with intention.
My house gets messy. Dios mio, what if someone stops by? What will they say of a house that looks lived in? Jesu...
I say that in jest. But with a messy home, my mind experiences overwhelm.
And slowly, it starts to feel like a quiet kind of self-abandonment.
I'm not saying anyone else needs to do these things. By all means, do you, boo. But for me, they matter. I feel more grounded when I tend to them. More prepared to meet the day.
So when I stop showing up for myself in those ways, I know I need to take a deeper look.
At my workload.
At my stress.
At what has been sitting in my mind and my heart.
Because when those small rituals fall away, other things usually have too. I am probably not eating as well. Not moving my body. Not checking in with myself.
So when the alarm goes off, I come back to a few things.
I make time to sleep.
Sometimes I stay up too late working. Sometimes I stay up too late just wanting a moment to myself, or spending time with my husband. And that time matters. But Malcolm and I both know we can't pour from an empty cup.
Getting a consistent eight hours changes everything for me. And when I can, I let myself get a little extra on the weekends.
I pay attention to my cycle.
Understanding where I am in my cycle helps me make sense of my energy. About a week before my period, I need more softness. Less pressure. Less on my plate.
That awareness alone helps me move through those days with more compassion for myself.
I come back to my breath.
If everything else feels off, my breath usually is too.
Not always a full meditation. Sometimes just a few deep breaths while I'm holding my daughter as she falls asleep.
It calms me. And it calms her too.
I get back into the water.
A warm shower or bath always brings me back.
There is something about water that feels deeper than just getting clean. It feels like a reset. When I need it, I am intentional with it. I imagine everything that has been weighing on me softening, loosening, and washing away.
And then, I talk to myself.
"I see you, mama. You are doing the best you can. But don't forget to rest."
Because sometimes, I already have the answers I am looking for.
And I hear my ancestors whisper, "That's right, mija. Take the rest we never could."
