Sunday morning started as it does every week: I wake up, let the dog out, meditate, boil water, and start arranging my tea tray. Tea pot and cup, honey, scoop of Earl Grey into the pot, spoon. I come downstairs and set up my first cup of tea, dipping the tip of the spoon into the honey, then into the dark and aromatic brew, stirring and smiling. I bring the cup to my lips and inhale the bergamot fragrance and sigh. Then, at 9am, I turn on CBS Sunday morning.

Here’s the interesting part: within this scenario lies a ritual wrapped in a routine. So, what is the difference between ritual and routine?

I believe that routines are those actions we do out of a sense of need. Brushing our teeth, going to work, washing the dishes we do with an absence of emotional investment. We do these things because we have either been told they are necessary, or because we know they will be beneficial to our well-being. But we are mentally unattached.

Rituals are actions we do mindfully, and with a sense of presence. They are things that give us joy. That we do because it is an expression of love: love for ourselves, for others. They are the things that carry a sense of peace in us throughout the day

What I have learned, though, is that many of my routines can be transformed into rituals, simply with intention and presence. For example. I couldn’t specifically say that letting my dog out is a ritual. It is done with a sense of need. But, what if you stop for a moment and consider it from the perspective of my dog. She is so excited to be let out. Aside from fulfilling bodily functions, she is able to explore the sights and smells of her domain – who has been in her territory, what the temperature is, and a myriad of other actions. This excursion gives my dog immense pleasure. I know this, because I’ve seen her, rolling around in the grass, on her back, laughing (yes, my dog laughs). I’ve seen her sit on the steps and squint her eyes and lift her nose to the sky, sniffing, seemingly with a sense of serenity.

By taking a moment to be present, and to watch her interactions due to my action, it’s very easy to get pleasure from my simple act of opening a slider. And that creates a ritual.

I’m not saying every moment of the day must be a ritual. Brushing my teeth is still a routine. But how lovely to think that, simply by being present, the act of brushing my teeth, by knowing that this action is improving my health, by considering all the people who make that action possible (the people who manufacture my toothbrush, the person who packed it, the driver who brought it to the store, the delivery man who left the package at my doorstep) this routine, in some ways, makes me grateful for all the people who were part of maintaining my health. A moment to be grateful for others, for something as mundane as my toothbrush.

Finding these moments of presence and gratitude have the ability to not only improve my mood, but make a world that seems so scattered and isolated, a little more intimate and in harmony.

Now go brush your teeth!