Routine versus ritual
Dear writer,
Lately I’ve been thinking about the difference between routine and ritual, and how the words we use to talk about our creative practices can change how we relate to them.
If you’ve been on the hunt for ways to make creativity feel more possible, shifts in language like this one can open a surprising door. (Plus, I’ve found that us ND folks can be especially susceptible to our linguistic choices; we need things to feel accurate, to feel true.)
Routine, for example, might feel like a container—a safe and sturdy place in which to work. But it can also become limitation, turning into a strict rule that actives a PDA response, or simply grows heavy with obligation.
Ritual, on the other hand, can feel softer, more optional. More sacred? Maybe it gives you the space you need. Maybe, on the other hand, it doesn’t always feel practical, grounded, or real.
How we name our creative acts can shape how accessible they feel to our brains.
Let’s drum up some clarity and get really nuanced about each one…
~~~
Routine can feel grounding
For many of us, a routine is a reliable container. It’s the structure that helps reduce overwhelm and decision fatigue. Maybe you write with your morning coffee, or you commit to twenty minutes of journaling every Tuesday and Saturday. Routine builds momentum and keeps you moving forward, especially on days when motivation is thin.
For some brains, especially those craving predictability and consistency, routine is a lifesaver.
But sometimes, routine can turn brittle
The flip side is that routine can feel rigid or unforgiving. If you miss a day or your usual order gets interrupted, it might feel like everything has fallen apart.
For folks who experience executive dysfunction or chronic illness, routines can mistakenly add pressure rather than ease. For some of us, demand avoidance (aka the Persistent Drive for Autonomy) can turn our own helpful routines into strict rulebooks we no longer feel like the authors of.
Enter: ritual
In the right context, ritual can be a soft alternative. It’s less about strict repetition and more about intention and presence. Lighting a candle that signals you’re now in “writing mode,” or playing a certain song before you set up at your desk: these acts become touchstones that welcome you back to your creative work, no matter how long it’s been.
Where routines can sometimes ask for consistency, rituals can invite more flexibility. For this reason, they’re sometimes easier to pause, step away from, and return to without guilt or shame.
Language shapes how we relate to ourselves and our work
It may sound like the smallest distinction, yet us writers are in the business of agonizing over such distinctions! We know, perhaps more than anyone else does, that writing is spellcasting; that our words shape reality; and that there is so much power in naming our practices with intention and care.
You are allowed to choose either—or both
Maybe routine serves you for a season, or a busy and tiring week. Or today.
Maybe some days want to be disciplined and structured, while others don’t.
Maybe you swap routine for ritual when you’re craving spaciousness and a more direct connection between your creative self and your spirituality.
Neither word is better or worse. But your nervous system, from one day to the next, might have some preferences. Changing the words you use can be a subtle but powerful accommodation for your creative process.
What I want you to know today:
You don’t have to force yourself into a structure that doesn’t fit. You can build practices that feel rhythmic, not set in stone.
Ask yourself: What do I need this season? This week? Today?
Listen for things like safety, accommodation, and encouragement. Choose what makes your body feel centered, capable, and whole.
