Rituals Before Inspiration
When you are asleep, the mind explodes helplessly.
The gates are resting, and the boundaries are blurred between real and unreal.
Some nights are insightful dreams; some are nightmares.
Nonetheless, the day you start largely depends on how you slept the previous night.
Studies from scholars like Freud suggest that a dream is an unfulfilled desire.
Esoteric and spiritual lineages suggest that dreams are insights into past lives and signs from the divine for the future.
Whatever belief you have about dreams, I leave it up to you.
But one thing cannot be denied: your dream state affects your wakefulness.
It kickstarts your day.
This makes us feel like we don’t have control over how we can start our day.
We spend the rest of the day waiting for the right mood, the right thought, the perfect moment to begin.
Subconsciously, you want the day to feel meaningful — not rushed, not accidental.
But consciously, we allow the disconnect with the subconscious and wander like strangers in our own world,
figuring out where to put the foot and what the next step should be.
This is even more relevant for spiritual people. Most of them spend their lives like aimless lunatics.
I was one of them — until the day I got hungry and there was no bread in the fridge.
I changed this one thing in life, which allows me to enjoy the very best of both worlds — spiritual and materialistic.
Instead of scrolling through the day, I choose a small ritual.
This can be different for everybody, and it can also be something that you are already doing when you wake up, like drinking coffee or chai.
Just be aware when you do it.
If you want a more deliberate attempt to align your mind with silence, you can choose a meditation of your choice.
It doesn’t matter what it is; it should be ritualistic. It should be so simple that you can do it without props and anywhere.
Just drinking a glass of water, being aware, is enough too.
It only has to be ritualistic — by which I mean you fairly do it every day, being aware.
It feels awkward at first. Nothing dramatic happens.
No lightning. No inspiration. Just presence.
But that is the point.
The wandering mind loves to wander because it is entertaining to wander.
It gossips, it has crazy ideas, and it constantly wants to do something.
It keeps changing thoughts, and your mood depends on it.
A silent act of awareness pulls your attention from the outwardly moving to the unmoving centre of your core.
And yet the day quietly opens.
Not inspired — but aligned.
You are at the core of your world, operating it by remaining detached and untouched by the influx of emotions.
It is simple; hence, you lose the excuse of waiting, and you cannot blame the mood anymore.
You step back into the same life — the same work, the same noise — only aware.
And this compounds and nurtures you over the course of time.
One day, it becomes so natural that you don’t have to make any deliberate attempts.
And silently, without even noticing it, this awareness will reflect in everything that you do throughout the day.
Now, the day does not begin when motivation arrives.
It begins when you do.