Ritualistic Showering


Where the ritual occurs.

Think about your day. Select one of your daily rituals and explain it to us: why do you do what you do? How did you come to adopt this ritual? What happens on days when you can’t perform it?

Thank you Daily Post for this intriguing set of questions.  In a couple of weeks I will have been retired from the work force for a year.  Since cleaning my fridge in August I have not done anything worth blogging about.  Yes, I guess that is kind of sad, but it also makes me extremely happy to have such an uneventful life.

Unstructured, seemingly limitless free alone-time probably sounds boring to a lot of you.  But to my fellow introverts I know it sounds like heaven.  Imagine being asked what you did all day and “nothing” pretty much sums it up.  Bliss.

Okay, I may be exaggerating slightly.  But this got me thinking about my day (please refer to the part where it says ‘think about your day’).  My daily rituals include

  1. drinking coffee
  2. taking a shower
  3. getting dressed
  4. filling or emptying the dishwasher but usually not both on the same day because it’s just me here at the moment, which means no one cares
  5. feeding myself
  6. wondering what stage I left the laundry at
  7. doing important things on my iPad
  8. thinking about art, checking art supplies, staring at blank canvases and that thing I started and don’t like and can’t motivate myself to finish
  9. doing totally unimportant things on my iPad
  10. wondering how it got to be so far past midnight and going to bed.

So the one I am selecting from this list and explaining to you is the ritualistic shower.  Because my Gawd this will be beyond interesting and exciting, won’t it?  No matter what my plans for excursions beyond the front door for appointments or shopping trips for the day may be, this is the one ritual I must perform every day.  Even if I’m not going anywhere except maybe to the basement.

Why do I do what I do?  How did I come to adopt this ritual?  I was born in 1949.  (Don’t panic, I’m only going to hit the shower related high points of my life.). The first farm-house we lived in did not have a bathtub.  The second one had a bathtub but no shower.  My brother thought it was hilarious to hold my face underwater at the beach, instilling in me a lifelong fear of getting water on my face and being unable to breathe.  For years after I moved away to places which had showers I would wash my face and hair in some place other than the shower, and then shower myself from the neck down.

Yeah, strange phobia, but something that was easy enough to live with.  Then I got married and had kids and none of these people I was living with were afraid of water so I slowly made myself get over it.  I passed the tadpole swimming level and the rest is history.

I don’t LOVE the water on my head part, but I can do it now and it certainly saves time.  Because I need a lot of that to get all my nothing done, right?  Anyway, now I can’t imagine a day without showering.

Oh, wait, yes I can.  There is no shower on the island where our summer camp is.  I am going there next week for about seven shower-less days.  Which brings us to the final question – what happens on days when you can’t perform it?

I cry a lot.  Just on the inside.  Outwardly I sigh and begrudgingly use the bathtub and the sink and the river.  And many wet wipes.  This is called roughing it in the wilderness.

The other day I showered and dressed and left the house and went to see my doctor for my yearly physical (and mental state I guess).  One of the questions she asked me was, on a scale of one to ten, how happy would you say you are?  I said seven or eight.  Because, let’s face it, nobody wants to claim they’re a ten.  People would be pestering you all the time for your secret, which would probably drop you down to five in a big hurry.  On days I don’t shower my answer would be two.

However, not drinking my morning coffee would immediately put me at a minus one.  So there are worse things in life I guess.  Showering is just one of my privileged life luxuries. Going without it is simply a kick in the butt reminding me to appreciate it.

26 thoughts on “Ritualistic Showering

  1. With the exception of changing the ‘far past midnight’ part to far past 9pm and going to bed, you have virtually described my life. It is comforting to know that I’m not alone. As to the shower thing, unless I am ill I am right there with you on the daily showers. In fact, it was only within the last year that I have been able to cease washing my hair every day. It gets wet, but shampoo only touches it every other day now. I feel almost giddy with joy at achieving this step.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I used to enjoy lots of conversation with others during my day but now I’m much more content having conversations with myself and email. Sounds strange maybe?! Or maybe I’m just more of an introvert and that’s OK with me. 😄

    I have missed your posts though – always enjoy your humor. 😊 Good luck at camp! 😊🐠🐸

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Brothers should be made to pay for their sins! I recollect being stuck inside a wardrobe patiently, then not so patiently, waiting for the elevator that would take me to the secret mountain where alligators lived and all the cool, older kids hung out. Can’t bear small places. Fortunately, there’s no daily requirement for me to have to. Thank god my mum shouted on me for my dinner and said brother was forced to release me. I’ll get him back yet. One day.
    Your day sounds like my idea of heaven once retirement rolls on round. Enjoy camp – baby wipes have a million uses. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • Oh, that is a great sibling story! I did things like that to my little sister. Mom always equated our shenanigans with lack of chores so we learned to stay out of sight and not tell tales or she would put us to work. And yes, retirement is great. ❤️

      Liked by 1 person

  4. You’ve gone missing, and we noticed. Welcome back. I grew up in a home with 8 folks, 1 tub, no shower. We learned respect, cooperation, consideration…it was a must. After we all moved out, my dad retired and put in a new bathroom. I appreciate those days with no schedule. You will enjoy retirement ! ☺

    Liked by 1 person

    • You know I can’t remember access to the upstairs bathroom with the tub ever being a problem and there were seven of us. We had a little half bath off the kitchen too. I see homes with six bathrooms and think that might be nice, but can’t imagine cleaning them all. 😄

      Liked by 2 people

      • Ha…we got in, took care of business, and got out. My husband is a bathroom reader. We’ve had some issues. My closet can only be accessed from the master bathroom..and it has the best lighting for him. Ugh.☺


  5. In the 1950 we had a sauna in my grandmas farm on Saturdays, and a deep basin to stand in and plenty of hot water in the evenings. Then we got a bathtub. When I was 12, we installed a shower, a love of my life 🙂 Great post!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. My son and my nephew made my daughter afraid of the beach and pool. They tossed her in the pool and held her down for a bit and she’s been afraid ever since. She’s 35 no and takes her kids to the beach but I don’t know if she joins them in the water. I need to ask.


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