The Small Rituals That Teach Us to Rest
Sometimes rest isn’t a holiday, a spa day, or a weekend away. Sometimes it’s taking off your makeup, drinking coffee in silence, watching birds gather in a winter tree, or finally making time for the thing you’ve been meaning to do.
There is something wonderfully revealing about asking a simple question: What is your rest ritual?
At the Lunch table, the answers didn’t begin with grand plans for luxury holidays or expensive escapes. Instead, they wandered into ordinary life—the kind most of us recognise immediately. A morning cup of coffee. A favourite chair. Dogs waiting by the door. The quiet before everyone else wakes up.
And somewhere between the laughter and the stories, a picture of rest slowly emerged.
More than switching off
For Rosii, the first image was immediate.
She remembered giving herself a birthday present: a visit to a spa.
There were bowls of warm water filled with flowers, gentle music, fragrant scents and, perhaps best of all, a long massage that seemed to melt every bit of tension away.
“It was really, really nice,” she said, smiling at the memory.
It isn’t something she can do often. Like many of us, she admits it is expensive enough to remain an occasional treat. But the memory itself has become a picture of rest—a reminder that sometimes caring for ourselves isn’t selfish at all.
Monica’s mind travelled somewhere quieter.
“No technology,” she said simply.
Just those two words carried surprising weight.
In a world where notifications constantly compete for our attention, choosing silence can become its own small act of resistance.
Taking off the mask
Then came one of those wonderfully unexpected moments that only seem to happen around a Brida table.
When asked about rest rituals, the Mayor’s first answer was not coffee, reading or sleeping.
“Removing makeup.”
The room burst into laughter.
He quickly explained that he wasn’t talking about himself.
His wife had once described makeup to him as more than something cosmetic. It helps prepare you for the outside world, she had said. At the end of the day, washing it away is like removing the mask you’ve worn while facing everything life has asked of you.
“You become your true self.”
It was one of those ideas that landed softly.
Rest isn’t only about lying down.
Sometimes it’s about letting go of the version of ourselves that has been performing all day.
Finding space between life
As the conversation unfolded, rest began looking less like an event and more like a rhythm.
The Mayor described early mornings when the house is still asleep.
For a few precious minutes, everything is quiet.
Sometimes he sits outside with a cup of coffee—a ritual affectionately known in the group as the “Fruitloop ritual.” No rushing. No screen. Just ten minutes of fresh air before the world begins making demands.
“It’s peace and quiet before the stampede starts.”
In the evenings, the ritual is different.
A glass of wine with family. A few snacks. Talking through the day. Sharing plans. Taking stock before everyone heads in different directions again.
Not every ritual needs candles or meditation.
Sometimes conversation itself is rest.
The ritual we wish we had
The conversation then shifted in a direction many readers will probably recognise.
If someone suddenly gave you an extra thirty minutes every day, what would you do with it?
Rosii already knew her answer.
She would study English.
Not because someone told her to—but because she wants to.
Pilates already has its place in her routine. Stretching is there too. English, however, keeps slipping to tomorrow.
“I really need to put this into my daily routine.”
Perhaps the answer wasn’t finding more time at all.
Perhaps it was deciding which small ritual mattered enough to protect.
Naturally, the table immediately volunteered to send her WhatsApp reminders.
Some encouragement is simply too good to refuse.
Monica’s answer was different.
She would continue sorting through the things filling her house.
Not because tidying itself is relaxing.
Because she knows that once it’s finished, the sense of calm waiting on the other side will be worth every minute.
Sometimes clearing a cupboard is also clearing a mind.
Learning from the animals
No Lunch conversation is complete without at least one wonderfully ridiculous question.
This time everyone was asked to imagine joining their favourite animal’s daily rest ritual.
Monica didn’t hesitate.
Her schnauzers already seem to have mastered the art.
They nap comfortably, watch the world through the window, accept the occasional treat and generally appear convinced that life has been organised entirely for their benefit.
“Their life’s pretty good,” she laughed.
Cats, she decided, may have understood the secret even better.
Rosii imagined birds arriving on her balcony, singing while she watched quietly from inside.
Fruitloop spoke about the birds gathering in a tree behind her house each winter afternoon, chasing the last patches of sunlight before evening arrives. She counted nearly fifty of them one day.
She also admitted missing the robin that once regularly visited her kitchen—a tiny friendship that quietly disappeared.
“Maybe another one will come,” she said hopefully.
Perhaps it will.
Rest lives in ordinary moments
By the end of the conversation, nobody had discovered the perfect formula for rest.
There wasn’t one.
Instead, everyone seemed to uncover something much smaller and perhaps much more useful.
Rest often begins with tiny repeated acts.
Making tea.
Removing a mask.
Watching birds.
Talking over a glass of wine.
Studying one language lesson.
Sitting quietly before the household wakes.
These rituals rarely appear impressive from the outside.
Yet they quietly remind us who we are underneath the busy parts of life.
And maybe that’s what makes a ritual worth keeping.
Not because it changes the world.
Because, for a few precious moments, it gently changes us.
