Every time I open this draft to write this post—August's prompt for the IndieWeb carnival is rituals—I think, no, that's a habit. Every topic I could write, I dismiss. Perhaps I don't have any rituals. Or perhaps I'm thinking about rituals in the wrong way.

What's the first thing that comes to mind when you hear that word? Me, I think candles. I think meditation. I think soft music.

But those aren't my rituals. To outsiders, my rituals probably look like habits. But the words have very different meanings. To me, a habit produces a result. A ritual produces a feeling.

Every morning, I make coffee first thing. Recently, that's been Nescafé instant French vanilla, which entails boiling the kettle, cutting open the package, stirring the water into the powder, then drinking. For the last two weeks, that's about all I've been up to. It's been a Minimal Viable Life lately.

But last night after work, I stopped at the grocery store. I bought bananas and French vanilla oat creamer. I came home and I mixed up a batch of bread dough. And this morning, I made coffee. One big thing that made that easier: I had washed the Moka pot over the weekend.

Coffee entails boiling the kettle, filling the reservoir, (usually grinding the beans but the pre-ground stuff was on sale last month), measuring the coffee, screwing the pot together, sitting down while it percolates, scrolling through Tumblr or RSS, pouring milk into a mug, pouring the coffee into the milk, sitting down to finish scrolling or write morning pages while I drink. This morning, it entails finishing this blog post I started yesterday.

Morning pages, to an outsider, might look like a habit, like me getting work done. But I don't write to produce words. I write to produce focus. I write to get the words out of my head and make space for more. The words I write during my morning pages are never going to be published. But they can lead the way to something else.

Flaking on a habit is often seen as failure. But if I don't write this morning, I can write tonight. I can try again tomorrow. A habit is about discipline, about maintaining your streak.

But a ritual is always there for you, a path back to that feeling. When you're ready, boil the kettle. Pick up your pen again.

This post is part of the IndieWeb carnival. August's theme is rituals.