The Most Holy Rituals of a Morning

Gather your sacred chalice, full to the brim with the holy water of your particular faith, and prepare yourself for a review of the sacrosanct traditions that power modern life. We might all worship at different altars, we might all give praise in different ways, we might all observe our rituals at different times, and we might even argue over the proper preparation of the self, but we all participate in the glorious act known as the Morning Routine and I am here to share with you the most holy rituals of my day-to-day.

First, the dulcet tones of a choir of angelic beings awaken me, their soft voices rising, falling, and harmonizing as sleep is slowly wafted from my mind and the light of the morning gently opens my eyes. As my consciousnes rouses, I give brief thought to the day ahead, but quickly turn my mind away from such iniquitous thoughts and instead bask in the forgiving glow of a new day. The tender voice of my ritual book speaks to me of the future, reading me portents of the day to come and ending it’s most holy sermon with a return to the choice who sing songs in a cycle as I take a moment to banish all non-essential thoughts from my mind. Only an empty vessel can be filled to the brim by these hallowed rituals.

As I rise, softly chanting my desires to Morning under my breath, I begin the slow preparation of the holy water of my faith: a careful, careless recipe I have concocted more times than I could count. The ritual begins to stir my mind from it’s lumbering slumber, the first scents of the sacred grounds on which my ritual is built pushing me foreward, carrying me through to each next step while my most holy of liquids is coming into being.

As the clang of pipes and gurgle of steam in water chase me through my church, I continue with my ritual, eager to progress. Immediately after the rumble of the consecrated machine tells me I have succeeded at the first steps of this most holy process, I begin the first cleansing. It is a small thing, of the hands and the mask involve in sleep, meant to remove the oils and sweat so that they will not contaminate further steps, and it is quickly done, my tools set aside for future use. Once the hands have been cleansed, they in turn, cleanse the rest of me so I can be prepared and unsullied for the steps ahead.

Fully cleansed, no longer dirtied by the vagaries of living, I dress myself in my finest vestments, varying each item as part of a wish for the day ahead, each piece a statement of identity and a declaration of my will for a healthy, happy experience. This most holy ritual is the process that powers my days, but it contains within it a wish for the day I’d love to embrace. A supplication from the powers of Morning for what I think I will need to survive once the morning has passed.

Once these preparations are done, I decant my holy water into my sacred chalice, a vessel lined and protected against that which might steal the power from my blessed liquid, but leave it open while I continue my ritual. Some part of its strength must be offered to Morning. As my offering rises slowly to Morning, I continue through the most holy ritual, setting things to right and ordering them as Morning commands. Some days are different, but each day’s ritual reflects Morning’s commandments for the day ahead. All traces of the night before are wiped away and the chaos of life is replaced with the order of living. As that is finished, I settle in for Morning’s most sacred act.

Once the fuel of Morning’s sacrament has been consumed, fortifying me with the strength I will need for the day ahead, I gather my implements, bless myself with my holy water, and leave the chapel to bravely enter the world before me. The choir of angelic voices still sing as I leave the hallowed ground behind, urging me on to fulfill the promise the Morning sees in me, and I conclude my most holy rituals with a final prayer.

I would not presume to dictate how you worship and observe, as each praises the Good Morning in their own way and each way is sacred, but consider that your rituals may have grown stale with long use and that even the simple act of being more aware of how you choose to act can revitalize your daily observations. I wish you all the best and to walk forever in the light of Good Morning.

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