Maru and I started a tradition a few years ago: whenever we’re on holiday by the ocean, we’ll make sure to go for a swim on the day we fly out.
It doesn’t matter if it’s raining or if we need to get up before sunrise. Carrying wet togs home don’t factor in either. We always get our dose of salt water.
We’re heading back to London today, and during this morning’s swim I realised that traditions are established through conscious effort. They require thought, work, and care to become a thing.
Sure, we can luck or stumble our way into a cherished tradition, but when I think about all the little details of the traditions across our two families, the best traditions are deliberate.