June 29th, 2025
I once admitted to a friend of mine that “Eh, I don’t do rituals”, followed by “they kind of creep me out”. While I cringe to this day at my narrowmindedness, to be fair, he had invited me to an annual ceremony in the woods above a small town in the mountains, where locals would be doing something involving creature-like costumes, group chanting and fire…and possibly LSD.
Okay, I probably should have gone, but my gross statement about rituals confirmed exactly how I felt about them at that time in my life. This was before I understood their virtuous potential, within both communal participation and the rituals one may conduct on a smaller level or even personally.
The Village Idiot
The problem was (and to be clear, I was never losing sleep over checking the “No” box on M. Knight Shyamalan’s RSVP):
a) I do enjoy watching an occasional, good horror movie, as my love for cinema dominates my aversion to conflict, fear and anxiety (the candles and the hooded robes- I can guess what’s coming next: “somebody gettin’ stabbed!”);
b) I neglected to consider the purposes behind a ritual, no matter how unfamiliar or “creepy” it would appear at first glance.
Rituals today are not just popular content for the horror film genre, but also seem to be trending for a modest percentage of the population looking to find deeper meaning in their lives. Among the masses in Western culture, however, rituals seem like they’re being replaced more and more by habits; little things we do because we “have to”.
The moments when we can be content in simply completing a task like washing dishes or even attending church services, we do so obligatorily and with angst. When we make coffee in the morning, we often do so, not to enjoy the process- the smell of the beans or the sound of the hot water splashing into the fresh grounds held by our chosen apparatus; but because we “need it”. This is probably one of the reasons I scoffed at an invitation into the woods- I was all surface level, all habits.
Boomerang
Back in the day, I feared taking psychedelics. My inability to anticipate the advanced state of inner/outer exploration they offered did not prevent me from experimenting with them on occasion (succumbing to the excitement/peer pressure combo); and after doing so, I still felt a bit of dread toward these mind-altering, ‘psilly’ substances. Whether or not one considers this intuition to be “correct”, it wasn’t until I began meditating in my 30’s, when after about a month or so of practicing slow, mindful breathing, I realized where this fear was originating.
Through meditation, I had inadvertently taken the proverbial elevator downstairs, and literally exploded with self-discovery: a smattering of volcanic emotions, as I tapped into sources of guilt and early childhood trauma, bawling on the floor after a breath session one evening; and somehow, feeling alive for the first time in my life. I was conducting my own personal rituals without proper training or allowing myself to fully reap their benefits. Things change.
After much breathing practice, snacking on a couple of boomers before a concert or while camping was an undoubtedly more positive experience; and much more importantly, mindful meditation continued to bring me further into the depths of my consciousness, allowing me to experience a greater sense of awareness with regard to a bigger picture, a more vast expanse of purpose and understanding. Concerts can certainly be a hoot, but I’m more grateful to no longer be crying on the floor post-meditation.
Bhakti Party
Maybe we can make use of a more ritualistic approach when it comes to the finer details of our journey into personal growth. Dropping the kids off at school every morning or ironing our outfits every weeknight because the company we work for maintains a strict “professional appearance” policy is not what I’m talking about. A morning walk that starts with brewing our tea just right, filling our water bottle and getting dressed in the appropriate attire to complete our own little ceremony, is a bit closer to what I’m getting at.
A “morning routine” will still differ from a “morning ritual”, in that the latter implies a certain level of spirituality involved- not just physical or automatic action, but an inner devotion with an intention to tap into all of our senses and go a little deeper into a state of self awareness.
For some people it might be prayer, while others, attending Burning Man or engaging in private meditation or yoga may scratch that itch. In all cases, the reason most humans participate in rituals is because they extend beyond the purposes and benefits of tangible things like food, exercise or entertainment. Dinner at Granny’s every Sunday, going to the movies the first Friday of every month, or jogging at the same time every morning- these simply represent engagements according to a traditional schedule, frequency or method.
While these things can certainly be very healthy, they’re still a bit routine-ish (unless Granny hosts a seance on Sunday nights, allowing her to contact PawPaw on the other side so she can tell him to “pipe down” and wait for her). This is because these types of activities embody the yang- the external, surface level stuff, when it comes to our experiences; whereas, the yin- the internal, big picture stuff- operates within an ocean, a much deeper level of consciousness and processing.
Find me a yogi who says “I could care less about that ‘spirit Chakra’ crap they’re always blathering on about, I’ve been going four mornings a week for the last 8 months because my doctor prescribed it”. This example, while crude, illuminates the juxtaposition between rituals versus routines. While daily stretches keep our blood flowing and our bodies limber; immersive, mindful yoga elevates the effects of this physical practice into an enhanced, sometimes cosmic state of mind-body connectivity: yin. I’ll bet Doc didn’t see that one coming.
Those who wish to “go there”, when it comes to the deep dive into our yin, have certainly had plenty of practice operating within the realm of the yang and wish to expand their consciousness. Those who treat this type of exploration as something to be avoided (the yang dwellers- an outfit with which I once identified), one could argue, are absolutely missing out.
Sure, what’s beneath the surface is unfamiliar and sometimes even terrifying, but that apprehension and fear prevents us from living as completely as we can; and could additionally result from, ehem, watching too many horror films.
Zen Me a Postcard
Although nearly everyone can benefit from some type of ritual, personal or otherwise, many are reluctant to initiate or engage in them. This is okay, not just because free-will is up and running, but also because we can ritualize just about any small or mundane task we set out to accomplish, thereby assigning actual meaning behind our actions, without necessitating robes, candles, or drugs.
First, it’s important to avoid approaching something like taking the dog for a walk, brewing our morning coffee, or even mowing the grass, with any sense of obligation: “My HOA says that our lawn ‘must appear reasonably kept’, but they never said anything about who had to mow it or how long is too long when it comes to grass!” We can replace this negative mindset with a simple recognition of an opportunity to experience gratitude, even for such low hanging fruit.
In order to accomplish this, we must allow all of our senses to be in a judgement-free, receptive zone: the aroma of java filling our kitchen and the ensuing post-consumption experience of taste and physical effect; or the scent of grass clippings in the breeze, as we admire the clean lines and calming aesthetics of our personal nature-space.
Absorbing the joy and matching the excitement our dog feels every time we take him on a stroll around the neighborhood or embracing the natural gifts of fresh air, sunshine and movement are steps we can take to slowly introduce a more mindful, ritualistic approach to our daily lives. Such a languid, Zen-like viewpoint exists in sharp contrast with today’s hustle culture to which we mindlessly subscribe, but it’s one of the few places where we may begin to find meaning.
It’s okay to be leery of mysterious gatherings (especially once Granny claims to have made contact with PawPaw), but let’s not sell ourselves short on how we may personally experience the world. Washing dishes is boring if we’re thinking about other things instead of simply focusing on just washing each dish at a time; and taking out the trash after dinner is just a chore, unless we pause at the end of our driveway each time to breathe deep and bid farewell to another beautiful day in which we were fortunate enough to live.