Caffe Interactions

I usually read several books simultaneously, not because I can read quickly, but because every time I sit or lie down to read, I’m not always in the same mood. So, I prefer to have a variety of options to choose from, depending on whether I need to connect with stories, essays, philosophy or a genre whose name I might not even know.

John Berger is an author I discovered by chance one afternoon over ten years ago while browsing a bookstore in Buenos Aires. The salesperson approached me and asked what I was looking for. Honestly, I don’t remember if I had an answer to that—a situation easily extrapolated to life itself 😅. Whatever exchange we had at that moment, I am deeply grateful for the outcome because that day, I left the bookstore with Berger’s Keeping a Rendez-Vous. A book that still sits on my shelf here in Valencia, as I have the habit of revisiting fragments now and then.

For me, Berger writes about the poetic experience of living. While his domain is what we call fine arts, reading him feels like connecting with the magical sensation of simply being, of letting ourselves be deeply moved by our experiences and surrendering to the idea that everything we live can be an aesthetic event.
In one chapter of the book, he analyzes a work by the Spanish painter Francisco de Zurbarán, stating that in it, «everyday tasks acquire a ritual sense». I’m going to borrow this simple yet beautiful observation to delve into the ceremonial aspects of our daily routines.

The pace of life dictated by Western society—the only one I feel confident addressing—rarely fosters the habit of slowing down to approach actions with mindfulness. Cultivating such presence demands intentional effort: prioritizing oneself, taking deep breaths, and fully anchoring in the present moment. These are simple, free acts that yield immense value but can be challenging to incorporate into today’s chaotic life. For me, daily rituals are an opportunity to practice this conscious attention and to remind myself how much I enjoy my small ceremonies, pleasures and choices.

When you reflect on your daily routines, can you identify your personal rituals?
For many Argentinians or Uruguayans, it’s often the preparation of mate. I’ve added to that tradition by discovering specialty coffee and bringing the same sense of ritual to preparing my pour-over coffee each morning. It was only later that I realized my parents had been doing something similar all their lives (or, since I’m part of them), brewing their coffee the previous night or early in the morning—long before «specialty coffee» became a concept or trend.

Taking care of plants or gardening can also be a ceremonial act. I don’t smoke and I dislike the habit, but I’ve always observed my friends rolling their cigarettes as if following their own rituals. Cooking is another area filled with rituals for many people, because it involves an abundance of colors, textures, and temperatures—stimulating the physical senses. My dad, for example, has a very sacred ritual for how he arranges the paper, then the cardboard and finally various types of wood—each selected for its burning speed—, when preparing the brasero for a barbecue. It’s both his ritual and his meditative task, something he takes all the time he wants for and does his way.

The common elements of any ceremonial activity include the use of specific tools—regardless of their sophistication—following a series of steps or protocols, though the order and rigor vary for each of us. There is also a clear purpose, as simple and sacred as connecting with ourselves, and a transformative outcome. A ritual prepares us, leaving us ready for whatever comes next in our day.

The rituals I refer to are shelters we build, nurture and preserve daily. Whether in public or in secret, we realize it or not at the moment we perform them, these acts of self-care quietly protect us from the outside world’s time. This perspective on habits or routines as sanctuaries reminds us that Home is Ourselves—that the refuge resides within us, travels with us wherever we go and is always available to be visited.

Ceremony is anything we hold sacred. It’s the moment or action we refuse to negotiate with anyone because it represents our connection to our inner selves and the sanctuary we are. It’s how we inhabit our home—not necessarily one with walls or tied to specific people, but a place where we reconnect with who we are. That invisible yet essential home… Infinitely livable.

Rituals demand no excellence from us, only presence, free from judgment; they are neither right nor wrong—they simply exist, as long as we are willing to show up for ourselves.

And you? Have you identified your rituals yet?
I’d like to read you 🙂