What makes a ritual feel real?

I was watching my neighbour light a candle every evening at 6:17, just before the streetlamp flickers on. It’s not religious, not even particularly dramatic—just a quiet moment where she pauses, breathes, and looks at the flame. I’ve been wondering: is it the repetition? The small defiance against the dark? Or is it the fact that no one else sees it, so it only exists in her body’s memory? What’s the smallest thing you do that feels like a secret ceremony?