I meditate for 30 minutes every morning. Well, most mornings. Though I’m not religious, I’ve created a short ceremony for the beginning of my practice, a pre-sitting ritual that helps me settle in.
I drag my cushions out from under the bed, start my timer, then light a votive candle on the small altar I’ve created on top of a bookcase.
I’m fond of fire, verging on borderline pyromaniac. Lighting a match provides a moment of focus. All senses are involved: the feel of the wooden matchstick gripped between thumb and index finger; the sound of the match head scratching against the side of the box; the Tada! sound of the spark igniting; the smell of sulphur and burning wood; the sight of the white-orange flame rising upward; the faint taste of smoke on the tongue.
A small act to pay attention to.