I recently watched alittle animated series called “Carol and the End of the World.” It’s about awoman who continues to go to work as an administrative assistant, despite thefact the world is going to be hit by another planet in a few months and is comingto an end. And she’s not the only one. Hundreds of people go to work at “Thedistraction,” every day while the rest of the world loses itself in hedonism,religion etc.


Ask a lot of people what they would do if they won the lottery, and many willtell you they would quit their job immediately. But a much smaller minoritywill tell you they would probably just keep on working. This show is about thatgroup.


When asked about his motivation to create the show, the writer said the showwas, “A love letter to routine. A show about the comforts of monotony. Ananimated existential comedy about the daily rituals that make up the gaps thatmake up a life.


And for some reason I couldn’t get that last line out of my mind.


“The daily rituals that make up the gaps that make up a life.”


I started making an inventory ofsome of my life’s rituals. I chat with my elderly neighbour about the weatherand what’s going on in our little town nearly every day. When I go to the gym,I make some kind of light-hearted, self-deprecating remark to the manager aboutworking out and my disdain for it. There’s a young waitress at the coffee shopI go to every day who noticed me reading my Kindle, and now we talk about whatwe are reading and give each other recommendations.


Just a lot of little things. Those are afew that jump out to me. A bunch of small interactions each day that on theirown don’t amount to much more than a little good-natured banter. Each of these interactions are just an N of 1. Unimportant in the grand scheme of things and just little moments that most people have over the course of a day. 


The gaps that make up life.


But when you start tallying up all these sums, they just might equal a goodday, a great year, and even a happy life.


Because when you think about the gaps that make up a life, that’s a lotof time to account for. And we use a whole lot of that time walking around in adaze. Headphones on, face buried in our phones, lost in our own ruminations andworries. As David Foster Wallace says, “It is extremely difficult to stay alert& attentive instead of getting hypnotized by the constant monologue insideyour own head.”


And I think for a lot of people filling the “gaps” isn’t even about otherpeople. Maybe it’s the way they go to the bank, or clean their house, or gettheir hair cut once a month on a Tuesday.  I think one of the reasons a lot of peoplestruggled during Covid was because these routines became disrupted. It’s thesame reason a lot of people struggle when they are newly retired. The samereason it’s not always good for people with mental health issues to take toomuch time off of work when they are feeling down.


Rituals and routines serve a purpose. Perhaps a bigger one than we even realize.


In the interest of full disclosure, I have often considered routine to be akind of enemy in my life. I was always about taking the big swings. Visitingthat exotic country. Seeing that gorgeous place. Continuing to complete thatbucket list.


But if I’m REALLY honest about my travels? I often remember my littleinteractions with people a lot more than the beautiful location. When I was inBali recently I had to walk past a block of shopkeepers on the way to thebeach, and ended up enjoying my morning banter with them over the course of the week a lot more than seeing the sites.


This is new kind of self-discovery for me. Although I philosophicallyunderstand the idea that it’s not the destination but the journey, I think Inever stopped to consider how the minutiae of the journey could actually have suchmeaning.


In closing I will close with a little vignette from Mark Duplass about how he neededa day to slow down and enjoy his daily rituals and moments.


A good lesson for us all.