Sacred Pauses: Micro-Practices for Tending the Soul

In a recent webinar with Michael Bungay Stanier, author of The Coaching Habit, I was struck by his distinction between habits and rituals. Both involve repeated actions, but they carry very different weight in our lives. This difference becomes especially important when we are navigating seasons of grief.

Habits vs. Rituals

Habits are practical routines that help us function with efficiency. They are often mindless and automatic—the brushing of teeth, the morning walk, the habit of checking email. Habits are built to conserve mental energy and keep life moving with minimal effort.

Rituals, on the other hand, are infused with mindfulness and intention. They transform the ordinary into the sacred. Where a habit is about the “what,” a ritual is about the “how.” A habit of making coffee can be just that—caffeine in a cup. But when approached as a ritual, it becomes something more: a pause in the morning to breathe, to notice, to set intention for the day ahead. Rituals elevate our actions beyond utility. They become containers for meaning, connection, and even healing.

Habits, Goals, and Rituals

It’s worth pausing to consider how habits and rituals differ from goals. A future goal points us forward—something we hope to achieve someday: “I want to run a marathon,” or “I want to finish a book.” A habit is the ongoing practice that supports us in the present: “I run three times a week,” or “I write every morning.”

A ritual, however, sanctifies those actions and anchors them in meaning. Lighting a candle before writing. Saying a blessing before running. Pausing with gratitude before a meal. Rituals tether us to the present moment, not just the future outcome.

Grief and the Power of Ritual

Rituals are especially important in grief. They give shape to sorrow and help us carry what feels unbearable. Some of us are naturally creative in crafting rituals—we light candles, gather stones, write words, or weave symbols into sacred moments. For others, ritual-making is not instinctive, but it can be learned.

A funeral is a communal ritual, but grief lingers long after the service ends. Private rituals sustain us in the daily ache of absence. They allow us to honor our loss and express what is often hard to put into words.

How to Transform a Habit into a Ritual

If you want to move a habit toward ritual, consider three steps:

1.     Add intention. Instead of simply walking, walk with prayer, gratitude, or reflection.

2.     Add symbol. Place a candle, stone, or fabric as a visible reminder of what the practice means.

3.     Add awareness. Name what you are doing and why you are doing it.

It doesn’t need to be elaborate. Even the smallest act can become sacred when performed with presence.

The Ritual of Lament

Tod Bolsinger reminds us that lament is the fundamental spiritual practice. In my grief retreats, I offer a guide for writing lament psalms. This practice roots us in the biblical tradition of honesty before God: naming pain, expressing anger, crying out for help, and remembering God’s faithfulness.

You might create a ritual of lament in your weekly rhythm:

• Light a candle, open your journal, and write a psalm of lament using the guide.

• Speak your sorrow aloud before God.

• Tear a scrap of paper with your grief written on it and place it in a bowl as a symbolic release.

Micro-Practices for Tending Grief

Not all rituals need to be long. Micro-practices are sacred pauses woven into daily life:

• Place your hand on your chest and breathe deeply when sadness rises.

• Whisper “Lord, have mercy” when tears come.

• Pause at the sink or stoplight to name one loss you are carrying.

Even anger can serve as a doorway to lament. Anger often hides unrecognized grief. Ask: What loss is beneath my anger? What am I mourning in this moment?

Tending Grief with Ritual

Rituals make our actions sacred. They don’t erase grief, but they give it form, dignity, and language. They remind us that our sorrow is carried in the presence of God, who receives our tears as holy.

So consider: What habit could you transform into a ritual today? What small practice could help you tend your grief with intention? Perhaps begin with a ritual of lament and see how God meets you there.