RITUALS
Words by Maisie Williams
Words by Maisie Williams
Unpacking, folding, refolding, packing, repeat.
This was the only ritual I knew since the age of 12 – back then I probably skipped step 2 and step 3, but as I grew up I realised these were crucial steps for a clear head. When I look back at my teens everything seems a little chaotic.
I would travel almost weekly for six months every year.
I’d go from car to plane to hotel to bed.
To trailer to set to lunch to set.
To hotel to bed to trailer to set.
Scrub the dirt from my nails and the grime from my neck. From set to plane to home to bed.
From bed to bus to school to desk. From desk to chair to chair to desk. Then desk to bus and home to bed.
And then I’d start all over again. It was fun and exciting but I started to lose myself, I needed a change but I didn’t know how.
These days when I wake up, before anything else, I like to creep my toes all the way down the sheets on my bed and poke them out the end of my duvet. I stretch my arms way over my head and rest them on the cold wall above me and I hold myself there. As my body begins to wake up, I reach my warm arm out of the cover and pull open the curtains from the comfort of my bed. The blue light creeps through the window and lights up the room, it’s probably around this time when Reuben rolls over to face me. Every morning we smile. The first thing I get to see every single day is a big, sleepy warm smile. I wish I could bottle that feeling and sip it throughout the day, it’s my favourite part.
We lay awake under the covers and all is quiet. I take time to think over my day, the things I must do, the places I must go. I hear my heartbeat, I hear his, I hear the gentle hum of the boiler, and sometimes I hear the neighbours talking. Only when I’ve heard just about all the things I can try to hear, it’s time to get out of bed.
Everyday, no matter which continent, country or city, this is how I wake up.
Nothing seriously bad would happen if I didn’t do those things, the world would not end, my heart would not stop beating. But these little rules and rituals I have grown to live by make the other parts of my life complete and worth living. Time is my new ritual. Time spent laughing and walking instead of crying and rushing. Time to be with people I love and time to be alone. Time to pause and breathe in my beautiful life. I take time to do whatever I want.
This was the only ritual I knew since the age of 12 – back then I probably skipped step 2 and step 3, but as I grew up I realised these were crucial steps for a clear head. When I look back at my teens everything seems a little chaotic.
I would travel almost weekly for six months every year.
I’d go from car to plane to hotel to bed.
To trailer to set to lunch to set.
To hotel to bed to trailer to set.
Scrub the dirt from my nails and the grime from my neck. From set to plane to home to bed.
From bed to bus to school to desk. From desk to chair to chair to desk. Then desk to bus and home to bed.
And then I’d start all over again. It was fun and exciting but I started to lose myself, I needed a change but I didn’t know how.
These days when I wake up, before anything else, I like to creep my toes all the way down the sheets on my bed and poke them out the end of my duvet. I stretch my arms way over my head and rest them on the cold wall above me and I hold myself there. As my body begins to wake up, I reach my warm arm out of the cover and pull open the curtains from the comfort of my bed. The blue light creeps through the window and lights up the room, it’s probably around this time when Reuben rolls over to face me. Every morning we smile. The first thing I get to see every single day is a big, sleepy warm smile. I wish I could bottle that feeling and sip it throughout the day, it’s my favourite part.
We lay awake under the covers and all is quiet. I take time to think over my day, the things I must do, the places I must go. I hear my heartbeat, I hear his, I hear the gentle hum of the boiler, and sometimes I hear the neighbours talking. Only when I’ve heard just about all the things I can try to hear, it’s time to get out of bed.
Everyday, no matter which continent, country or city, this is how I wake up.
Nothing seriously bad would happen if I didn’t do those things, the world would not end, my heart would not stop beating. But these little rules and rituals I have grown to live by make the other parts of my life complete and worth living. Time is my new ritual. Time spent laughing and walking instead of crying and rushing. Time to be with people I love and time to be alone. Time to pause and breathe in my beautiful life. I take time to do whatever I want.
