Rituals: 16 posts

Tonight, the moon rises full and radiant, the harvest moon of the Mid-Autumn Festival. In many places across Asia, families gather to share tea and mooncakes, to light lanterns, to pause. I’ve always loved this idea: the celebration of something as mysterious and serene as the moon.

When I read my childhood journals from Ukraine, I find many references to it—the crescent moon I saw on Christmas Eve, the full moon glowing above a blooming cherry garden at dusk. The moon made me look up, take a breath, and let beauty flood in. It still does.

When I lived and traveled in Asia, the Mid-Autumn moon became a kind of companion. I remember sitting on a balcony in Singapore with a cup of green tea, the city humming below, the sky pale gold. One marvelous autumn in Tokyo, I experienced the scent of osmanthus mixing with the soft moonlight. And tonight, from my home in Brussels, the moon will rise again, the same moon, the same quiet invitation to look and remember.

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My Favorite Autumn Fragrances (Ukrainian)

Lately, I’ve been finding it difficult to sleep. The news from Ukraine is overwhelming, and it’s painful to experience this war from the outside, knowing that my family and friends are living through it every day. For now, my obligations keep me here, and I have to find ways to keep myself going.

Perfume has always been a source of joy for me, but in recent weeks I’ve leaned on it even more consciously. Ever since studying the effects of scents on mood and cognition, I’ve noticed how much a small ritual can change the texture of a day. Choosing a perfume, putting it on slowly, pausing to inhale it—it may take only seconds, but done with intention, it becomes a grounding act. In autumn, when the days grow shorter and the light fades too quickly, these moments are especially precious.

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Autumn Perfume Rituals (English)

Останнім часом мені важко заснути. Новини з України не дають спокою, і дуже боляче переживати цю війну здалеку, знаючи, що моя родина та друзі живуть у ній щодня. Поки що обов’язки не відпускають мене звідси, тож доводиться вигадувати невеликі способи підтримати себе.

Парфуми завжди були для мене джерелом радості, але останніми тижнями я покладаюся на них ще свідоміше. Відтоді як я почала вивчати вплив ароматів на настрій, я зауважила, наскільки невеликий ритуал може змінити відчуття дня. Обрати аромат, повільно нанести його, зробити паузу, щоб вдихнути його — це займає всього кілька секунд, але, якщо робити це з наміром, такий момент стає заземлюючим. Восени, коли дні коротшають, а світло зникає надто швидко, ці миті набувають особливої ваги.

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It’s almost the middle of July, and the pace with which summer is unfolding leaves me overwhelmed. I want to stop the moment and enjoy the late spring reminders that still linger despite the relentless winding down towards fall. The lindens around my house have finished blooming, but they still smell of incense and wilted jasmine. Along the sidewalks, lavender is filling the area with the summertime scent of Provence. Elsewhere, I already see asters and chrysanthemums, the first harbingers of autumn. Sometimes I forget what season it is.

This summer has been about searching for an equilibrium and balance. Even as time is flying quicker than I want, I’m still managing to carve out moments of stillness. Here are a few tips for those who are likewise struggling to get their bearings this summer.

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In Ukraine, there is an old tradition of embroidering a rushnyk, a hand towel, during dark periods of one’s life. It matters less what’s embroidered than the process of doing so. Once the rushnyk is done, it’s tied to a tree branch and allowed to decay. This way, people say, one’s worries and dark thoughts become scattered.

I don’t know if my great-grandmother Asya followed this tradition consciously–at any rate, she was far too practical to hang perfectly good fabric in the garden, but she wove her own cloth and embroidered. Even the most ubiquitous items in the house like newspaper holders and bread bags were embellished. Her most beautiful embroideries, however, weren’t meant to be seen. They were her undergarments.

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