Gathering the Fragments: Rituals to Revive Your Creative Flow
Creating Sacred Practices for Writing That Transforms
Let’s begin with a moment. The room is quiet, the kind of quiet that stretches wide, inviting you to listen. A candle flickers on the corner of your desk, its light unsteady but warm, like a heartbeat. You sit down, pen in hand, notebook open, and wait. For a breath, you feel untethered, disconnected, unsure of what comes next. But then, beneath the stillness, something shifts.
Ritual isn’t about the candle or the desk or the steps you take—it’s about connection. It’s the bridge you build between yourself and the work, between the scattered fragments of your creative energy and the wholeness waiting to take shape. It’s the way you tell yourself: This is the time. This is the space. This is where the wildness begins to stir.
The Ritual of Returning
In Resurrecting the Wild Writer: Singing Over the Bones, I wrote about ‘La Loba’, the Bone Woman—how she gathers the scattered remains of what’s been lost and sings until they breathe again. Her work is deliberate, patient, and fiercely alive. It’s ritual and resurrection rolled into one.
Writing rituals are much the same. They are the quiet, transformative acts that let us collect the scattered pieces of our creative energy and hold them in our hands. They remind us that what feels lost isn’t gone—it’s waiting for us to show up, to gather it with care, and to sing it back to life.
But rituals aren’t about perfection. They’re about intention. Lighting a candle, clearing a desk, sitting in silence—these acts may seem small, but they carry weight. They mark the threshold where we step out of the noise of the world and into a space where the wild, instinctual part of us feels safe enough to rise.
Creating Your Sacred Writing Space
A sacred space isn’t about what you have; it’s about what you make of it. It can be a desk, a favorite chair, or even the corner of a coffee shop. What matters is how it feels when you’re there.
Here’s your invitation:
Choose Your Space: Find a spot where you feel grounded, safe, and open. It doesn’t have to be fancy—it just has to feel like yours.
Set the Scene: Bring in elements that awaken your senses—a candle, a favorite scent, music, or even a special mug for your tea or coffee.
Signal the Start: Begin your writing time with a small ritual. Light the candle. Take a deep breath. Play a specific song. These simple acts signal your mind that it’s time to create.
Invite the Wild: Let go of expectations. Allow the words to come as they will—messy, wild, unpolished. This is your space to trust the process.
Play Invitation
Set aside 20 minutes to create your own writing ritual.
Start Small: What’s one thing you can do today to mark the beginning of your writing time? Light a candle, stretch, or take a mindful breath.
Write Without Rules: Once your ritual begins, let your writing flow. Don’t edit or judge—just let the energy move.
Reflect: How did the ritual affect your mindset? Did it shift the way you approached the page?
Your ritual doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to feel like you.
Reviving Creative Energy
Rituals remind us that writing isn’t just about words—it’s about the energy we bring to the page. It’s about showing up for our creative selves, even when the world feels too loud or too heavy.
Your ritual might evolve over time, just as your writing does. What matters is the intention behind it: a quiet promise to yourself that this space, this time, is sacred.
The Reader’s Role
Rituals aren’t just for writers—they’re for readers too. They feel the care, the energy, the intention behind your words. They step into the sacred space you’ve created and become part of it.
When you write with reverence for your process, your readers feel it. They connect not just to the story, but to the heart behind it.
Your Turn
Your creative energy is waiting.
What rituals can you create to honor your writing time?
How can you turn your space, however small, into a sanctuary for your wild, creative self?
Gather the fragments. Light the candle. Sing over the bones.
About Me:
I’m Rena—a writer, educator, and relentless explorer of stories. Originally from Southern California, I’ve spent the past 20 years making my home in Costa Rica, where I live with my husband, two children, and a pair of Rhodesian Ridgebacks who refuse to acknowledge their size.
My writing has appeared in places like Brevity Magazine, South Florida Poetry Journal, Five on the Fifth, New Flash Fiction Review, Headland Literary Journal, and more. Along the way, I’ve collected more rejection letters than I care to count—a badge of honor for any writer chasing the next story.
I’m also the Founder and Director of an International K–12 school in Costa Rica, a space where my love for learning and writing collide in exciting ways. At my core, I believe in the power of ideas, in listening for what’s unsaid, and in finding beauty in the unexpected. Stories connect us—and together, I believe, we’re better.
Come write, wonder, and explore with me.