Sometimes, the ritual is getting out of bed.
Setting your feet on the floor.
Breathing.

Sometimes, the ceremony is closing your eyes and pulling your Self back together.
Or letting the hot water wash over you.
Or letting the tears burn.

Sometimes, the prayer is the meal you create.
The moment you stretch your body.
The time you take to find the moon in the night sky.
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Sometimes, holy is all that we have.