There is a moment, about four minutes into a warm bath, when the shoulders finally admit defeat. The jaw unclenches. The list of things undone becomes, briefly, a list of things that can wait.

Make it a ceremony

Run the water warm rather than hot — heat that soothes, not scalds. Pour a capful of bath oil under the running stream and watch it bloom across the surface. Low light. Phone in another room.

Twenty minutes is enough. Afterwards, press the remaining oil into damp skin instead of towelling it away — it finishes the ritual and leaves a soft, lasting veil.

Why oil, not bubbles

Bubbles are theatre; oil is craft. A well-made bath oil carries botanicals onto the skin and keeps working after you leave the water — moisturising, softening, calming.