You know what keeps me sane these days? It’s not therapy, or some productivity hacks, or the next big thing on my to-do list. It’s this small, seemingly insignificant ritual I’ve carried with me for years: Watching the night sky.
Every night, no matter how emotionally drained or physically tired I am, I step out onto my balcony and look up at the stars, even if it’s just for five minutes. Some nights, I stand there with some snacks in my hands; other nights, just my hands tucked in my hoodie. I know, it may sound ordinary, but in that moment, surrounded by silence and sky, something really shifts within me.
I stop rushing. I stop scrolling. I stop solving. I just exist. And I remember what it feels like to be… human.
Let’s not pretend otherwise, the world right now feels like a constant storm of bad news and brokenness. There’s war happening in places we’ll never visit, injustices unfolding in real time on our screens, polarising arguments that divide instead of heal, a fragile economy, burning forests, missing empathy, rising loneliness (even in rooms full of people).
And in the middle of all this, we’re somehow expected to carry on like machines – functioning, producing, achieving, numbing, repeating, until our hearts go quiet and our minds turn mechanical.
But we’re not machines. We were never meant to be.
Which is why, now more than ever, we need to hold tight to the things that make us feel alive, the things that tether us back to our emotional centre when everything else is pulling us apart. We need our little rituals.
Rituals are not always religious. Some of the most powerful rituals are deeply personal. Unspoken. Uncelebrated. But soul-sustaining.
They are often so personal, so small, that we forget how much they matter:
That call you make to your mum every evening, not because there’s big news, but just to hear her voice and know she’s okay.
The way you make your chai in the same old steel saucepan every morning, with exactly two cardamoms, because that’s how your dad liked it.
The walk you take after dinner not to burn calories, but to untangle your thoughts from the day.
The playlists you replay endlessly, not because they’re new, but because they feel like home in a world that’s constantly changing.
Feeding the same stray dog every morning before office, because no one else will.
Wearing your grandfather’s old wristwatch, even though it no longer ticks, because it makes you feel like he’s still part of your journey.
Sending a “reached” text even though you’re 30 and independent, because someone out there still waits for that message.
These rituals may never go up on Instagram stories. They’re not aesthetic. They’re not content. But they’re yours. And they’re sacred.
Because they do something no therapy app or productivity tool can. They remind you that you’re still connected to yourself, to your memories, to your softness, and to the parts of you that the world hasn’t broken yet.
Because the world will keep demanding from you, your time, your energy, your opinions, your attention, and your outrage. It will keep numbing you with noise, rushing you with deadlines, tempting you with distractions. It will ask you to move fast, speak loudly, and stay in a constant loop of reacting.
But these little rituals? They ask nothing from you, except that you be present. They invite you into a slower, quieter space where you don’t have to prove anything—where you can simply be.
And when you do these small things with intention – boiling your tea, folding your clothes slowly, reading poetry, saying your grandmother’s prayer before sleeping, something inside you breathes easier.
You remember who you are beneath all the roles. You reconnect with the child in you, the artist in you, the lover, the thinker, the human being – not just the human doing.
There is something profoundly powerful about staying soft in a world that’s constantly trying to harden you. There is courage in still caring deeply when apathy is the easier option.
There is resistance in preserving your rituals of love, of faith, of connection, even when the world mocks them as unnecessary or outdated.
When you light that candle, or whisper a prayer, or journal your thoughts before sleep—
You are saying: “I refuse to become numb.”
You are saying: “I still believe in meaning.”
You are saying: “I am human, and I intend to stay that way.”
As I already said above, for me, that night sky ritual has become more than just a moment of calm. It reminds me that the world is still vast, that mystery still exists, that not everything has to be understood or explained. It pulls me out of my deadlines and disappointments and gently whispers, “There’s more to life than this.”
It keeps my curiosity alive. It helps me stay grounded in a world that often feels rootless.
You might also want to read: The Night Sky Deserves Your Attention
Maybe it’s the way you check on your sibling without making it obvious.
Maybe it’s singing to yourself in the shower, or keeping a diary no one else will ever read.
Maybe it’s carrying a small photo of your parents in your wallet, even though you rarely look at it.
Maybe it’s listening to old voice notes of someone who’s no longer around, just to feel close for a minute.
Maybe it’s checking the locks twice before bed – not out of fear, but out of habit, because that’s how your dad did it.
Maybe it’s standing at your window during rainstorms, not doing anything, just watching and breathing.
Maybe it’s saving screenshots of kind messages people have sent you over the years.
Maybe it’s smiling at strangers on your walk because you know what it feels like to go unnoticed.
Whatever it is, hold onto it. Don’t underestimate it. These aren’t just habits. They’re little altars. Little pieces of yourself you’ve kept safe, even when everything else felt out of control.
So the next time you feel overwhelmed, or disconnected, or like you’re slowly becoming just another name in the crowd. Return to your ritual. Return to yourself.
And remember: the world may be losing its soul, but you don’t have to.
Before You Go: Our book series – ‘Unfold the Stories of Unsung Heroes‘ was born from this very idea. That even in a chaotic world, people quietly choose kindness. They heal. They fight for what’s right. They show up, even when nobody’s watching.
That’s why we just love to tell their stories. They remind us that being human is still something worth celebrating.
And maybe, your little ritual today… the one that seems insignificant—might be your own act of unsung heroism.
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Thank you, Ritish, for the thought-provoking and beautifully written essay on how to stay sane in the turbulent world by observing rituals that make us human and connected with inner child in our heart. As Ben Wild wisely wrote:
"Seek the wisdom of age, but look at the world through the eyes of a child."
Joanna
That is such a good quote, Joanna. I’m so glad the blog resonated with you.
Nature in all her manifestations is do healing 🙏🏽🙂🙏🏽
… is so* healing
100% with you on that, Dawn. A quiet tree or open sky can be the best therapist.
While reading this excellent piece, I began thinking of some of my rituals, one I'm doing right now. Reading blog posts while enjoying my first cup of coffee in the morning is one of my rituals. Soon I'll be off to the gym for exercise. My day typically ends with my habit of reading a good book until my eyes can barely stay open.
I love your morning ritual, Pete. I too start my day reading a piece or two, it's such a grounding way to start the day. And I think, that's the kind of rhythm the world needs more of.
“There is something profoundly powerful about staying soft in a world that’s constantly trying to harden you.” This is my Takeaway of the Week. Excellent thoughts well expressed in this entire post - thank you!!
Yeah, staying soft in a hard world is its own kind of strength. Thanks for seeing that.
Very thoughtful and well written article. My favorite re-set that brings back inner calm in this world of chaos and noise is to be alone in nature. And the best place is alone on my boat at night on the lake, looking up at the vastness of the universe. I realize how small I am and appreciate the things that are important in my life.
Your ritual is pure magic, Dennis. Such a peaceful and humbling way to reconnect. That’s the kind of perspective that resets everything.
Like Dennis, I think this is very thoughtful, and informative. Nice job!
Really appreciate your kind words, Dittmer 🙏
Beautiful Ritish. Rituals can be very grounding—and we need them now more than ever.
So true, now more than ever. Thanks Michelle!
Because we are human and not machines this inner need for relevance will always exist. I think it a part of who we are with a longing to find a reason and purpose for our NOW and a desire to know where our soul will spend eternity. That's why I believe ONE is greater than this mortal existence.
That’s such a beautifully expressed thought, Faye. There's something deep within all of us that's always seeking meaning and a sense of “why now?” I think that longing is part of what makes us human.
I love seeing how the little things are so meaningful to so many people. There's so much truth in these. My little ritual before bed that helps me unplug, is to read in bed with my kindle, which i have set for black background and white letters, as it's very restful on the eyes. This summer I grew some tomatoes in pots, and I find it relaxing to go outside to water them and talk to them a bit!
Oh wow, it says a lot about the kind of presence you bring into your days. A friend of mine also said it to me once, about talking to plants, and you know, it reminds me that we're part of something living and rooted. Thanks Tamara 🙌🏼
Brilliant, Ritish. You're right - we don't need to lose our souls. And I love, "Which is why, now more than ever, we need to hold tight to the things that make us feel alive, the things that tether us back to our emotional centre when everything else is pulling us apart. " Incredible!
Thanks Wynne, and yup, it's easy to forget how much we're being pulled away from ourselves these days. But those little things, they bring us back.
What a beautiful post, Ritish! These first few lines say it all so well:
"There’s war happening in places we’ll never visit, injustices unfolding in real time on our screens, polarising arguments that divide instead of heal, a fragile economy, burning forests, missing empathy, rising loneliness (even in rooms full of people).
And in the middle of all this, we’re somehow expected to carry on like machines – functioning, producing, achieving, numbing, repeating, until our hearts go quiet and our minds turn mechanical."
I don't think looking up at the sky is ordinary. I think it takes effort to slow down and revel in the mysteries of life; the sky and stars are part of those mysteries that enchant us. I love to read a good book, write, read blogs, get outdoors for a walk or bike ride, hike and camp in the wilderness. Of course, spending time with family comes first. Smiling at a stranger feels good, especially when they look surprised, not expecting the kind gesture. We never know the stories of others we pass.
Thank you for this excellent reminder to pause and not be consumed by the noise around us. ❤️
Such a beautiful comment, Lauren. It really moved me. I love how you described your rituals, they’re not just things you do, they’re ways you live. And thanks for believing that watchin nighy sky is not ordinary. It’s humbling in the best way. And yeah, you're right about strangers. We pass by so many untold stories every day, and sometimes a simple smile can mean more than we realise ❤️
Beautiful. <3
Thanks for reading!
Beautiful, eloquent, and timely, Ritish. In a world that seems to have lost its mind, it takes a little extra mindfulness to hold on to our sanity. Thank you for this meaningful post. 💐
You’re right, Cheryl it really does take a bit more awareness these days just to stay balanced. Thank you for your kind words ❤️
Your words are sacred and precious, Ritish!
Ritual is exactly as you say and I loved this “They’re little altars. Little pieces of yourself you’ve kept safe, even when everything else felt out of control.”
As always your words are a gift from your heart to ours! Thanks my friend!
🩷
Thank you so much, Cindy. I’ve come to believe that these rituals reminds us that we're still here, still feeling, still human. Always grateful to share space with you ❤️🙌🏼
You’re so welcome it’s so true! The pleasure is all
Mine! 🩷
Beautifully written, Ritish! I loved how you highlighted the power of small rituals-like making tea or watching the stars-to keep us grounded and human in a fast-moving world. These little acts truly connect us to ourselves and others. Thank you for the gentle reminder!
Best Line: I stop rushing. I stop scrolling. I stop solving. I just exist. And I remember what it feels like to be… human.
I really appreciate that. We move so fast, sometimes we forget it's okay to just be.
So much love, so much heart and hopefulness in one post. Thank you, thank you! ❤️❤️❤️
Thanks for reading, Vicki ♥️
You are so very welcome! 💕
To understand the power of little is grand, freeing, and powerful. I love looking at the night (or early morning) sky. I especially thrive on hearing the early morning birds help bring up the sun every morning. Glory! You are blessed, Ritish, to know it, experience it and kindly share with others. Thank you for sharing.
That's so beautifully said, Mitzy. I love how you put it, ‘to understand the power of little is grand’. That's a line worth carrying in the heart. Thank You!
Thank you, Ritish, that is kind of you to say. I can say with all truth, the power of little has served me very well.
My ritual is going for a walk each day, through the shadow of trees. Thanks for asking and sharing.
This is a wonderful article. I do many of these things on most days. 🧡
That’s awesome 🙌 I feel like half the time these little rituals sneak in and save the day without us even realizing it.
I think you are right 💜
Are there really others like me out there?
I wish you well & happiness, it's a lonely life being an observer, a lover of Earth's nature
Oh, totally Dawn, there are definitely others like you out there. Quiet observers are kind of like fireflies… you don’t always spot them, but they’re glowing all around. Sending you a whole lot of sunshine and bird songs 🙌🫂
Charmer. I saw you responded to a comment I made... I thought to myself, "Oh my word, it's been so many days, what did I say, and to what?!" That's how busy I seem to be. Fireflies, bless them for the magick they bestow upon us. Here, we call them lightning bugs, but in reality, they are simply magick bugs. I read there are different species. Those I've enjoyed my entire life light up upon ascension, I don't know the species everyone else sees. Maybe they're reminescent a soul transcending this particular realm.
I even get angry at speeders on this country road, not only for the animal sufferings, but for the lightning bugs who have lit up my life since I was a young lass. Just this morning, amidst other awful speeding consequences I've witnessed, there was an opossum tragedy this morning. I investigated a barely moving animal on the road. I moved it by sticking a wooden plank under its belly to get it out of the road. I called the sheriff's dept. & a sheriff's deputy met me at the scene maybe 15 minutes after my call, where the sweet darling lie. I spoke to it & prayed for it, for it is an individual who truly fought to live after a car impact.
The officer was kind, said he'd put it out of its suffering, if I wished. Well, I hoped a wildlife recue place could maybe perform surgery & save it, but, neither the officer nor the dispatch woman knew of help for a wild animal.
I apologized to the deputy for starting his day with killing one of God's creatures. He told me the worst call he went on was for a mother deer, a doe, who was hit & lied dead in a ditch, the baby, a fawn, was lying over its dead mother. When the deputy approached, his heart ached for the baby. Then he saw it was alive on its mommy, but its hind legs were ripped off by a speeding a******. He had to shoot the baby as it lay upon its mother.
I hope these people get good counseling for what they have to see (human & animal).
I heard the gunshot to end the suffering about 3 minutes after I walked away from our conversation. I said a prayer & apologized to that little one on behalf of the ignorant humans.
Considering the lapse in moments until I heard the shot, I think that man didn't want to do it & maybe also said a prayer for its soul.
I pray to our firwflies & lightning bugs... "Move! Get the he** out of the road, you beautiful creatures!! Just go North or South, pick a direction already!! You're stressing me out here!!" Please don't die, the world needs you & your magick.
Oh Dawn, reading your words felt like stepping right into your world for a moment. You’ve got such a gentle soul, and it really shows in how deeply you care, not just for Murph and the little creatures you’ve loved, but even for the ones most people just drive past without a second thought. I can only imagine how heavy it must’ve felt with that opossum.
You’re right, I hope they do have someone to talk to, because carrying those moments around can’t be easy. But you know what? The way you spoke to that little one, prayed for it, and just stood there being present - that matters more than you probably realize. That kind of compassion is rare.