Have you ever just stood outside at night and let the sky remind you how small, yet significant, we all are? I do it all the time. No matter how chaotic my day has been, no matter how tired or maybe even joyous I feel, the night sky always makes me feel like, I belong.
There’s something deeply grounding about looking up at the stars, watching the moon glow in its different phases, and just existing in that moment. It’s like a quiet conversation, one where I don’t have to say anything, yet I still feel heard. Some people meditate, some journal, but for me, my most sacred ritual is stepping outside at night, taking a stroll or laying a cloth outside my house, staring at the sky, I believe it's called stargazing and just breathing in the vastness and beauty and mystery of it all.
The moon, especially, feels like an old friend. I love catching it in unexpected places, sometimes hanging low and golden, other times sitting high and silver, almost shy behind the clouds. The stars feel like tiny promises scattered across the sky, reminding me that there’s so much more beyond whatever I’m worrying about in the moment. It’s humbling, but in a comforting way.
This ritual of mine isn’t complicated. I don’t have a set time or a formal routine around it. I just know that, at some point before I sleep, I’ll step outside, even if just for a minute, and look up. Some nights, I get lost in it, tracing constellations, wondering about the people in different parts of the world looking at the same sky. Other nights, it’s just a fleeting glance, a deep breath, and a silent “thank you” to practice my daily gratitude.
I think we all need something that anchors us, something that pulls us away from the noise and reminds us of what truly matters. For some, it’s prayer. For others, it’s music, a cup of tea, or a late-night drive with no destination. For me, it’s the sky.
