I'm sitting on my newly furnished patio this morning, snuggled under a cranberry throw and drinking cinnamon spice coffee from a pumpkin mug.  The view from my patio is stunning.  The ground is littered with bright gold and orange leaves.  The almost naked trees stand in stark contrast to the cloud-blanketed sky, the stone fountain in my courtyard is framed by all of this natural glory.

This first week of living in my new home--I mean actually living versus unpacking and organizing--has been a daily study in life's simple pleasures.  The early morning yoga in my living room has become a delicious treat after weeks of being off my regular self-care routine.  The weekly grocery store visit is a feast for the senses, especially now that the holidays are near--the produce section is overflowing with Brussels sprouts and pomegranates and persimmons, to name a few of the seductive jewels that caught my eye this time around.  Grocery shopping is especially invigorating as I contemplate what delicious meals I plan to cook in my home--from the tofu, pea and spinach stir-fry with a coconut-peanut sauce to the autumn inspired afternoon tea party with a friend, to the simple nutritional yeast spiced popcorn and pumpkin hard cider for homemade happy hour with my sister.  Even cleaning and doing laundry has become a meditation on the simple joys of a warm, clean home.  Moving into a new space has made me hyper-aware of the magic behind my everyday routine.

While many of these activities--grocery shopping, laundry, coaxing myself out of bed early to stretch my limbs--seem like mundane routines that, like grooves in a well-trod path, are merely evidence of rote actions, they are actually delicious rituals of self-care.  I take comfort in the knowledge that when I get home at the end of a long workday, my routine is in place: I water my plants, I exercise, I prepare dinner while watching the news, I dine listening to old jazz records, I read over cups of minty sleepy time tea.  It is a healing balm to a full day of caring for others--tending to my students and nourishing their writing growth.  It is the promise of soul replenishment and the mending of the proverbial tears and scrapes from the day. 

So the next time you find yourself in the midst of your daily routine, take a moment to pause and relish the wonder of the rituals you've built around your sense of well-being.  These rituals ground.  They nourish.  They heal.