Rituals, Ceremonies, and all that Jazz

I know a lot of people who are deeply moved by ritual and ceremony. They stand with tears in their eyes during the Liturgy at their church, at a wedding or baptism, and at graduations from kindergarten to graduate school. They drink high tea with carefully chosen tea cups and blends. They always stir their coffee counter clockwise and deeply inhale the aroma. They bow their head if a funeral procession passes.

I'm not one of those people.

However, I went to my niece's college graduation this weekend. It was in Charleston, SC, about 150 miles from my home. She had four tickets and my husband, youngest son, and I got three of them. I was moved by the honor, so much that I actually went. I waited in line for a not terribly long time in not quite murderous heat. I sat in a plastic chair on a lawn in what the College of Charleston calls "The Cistern." I listened to people talking as we waited for our graduates. I stood for the National Anthem (but didn't sing, which may actually be a sign of respect.) I looked and looked and looked and failed to see Roslyn in the hoard of white dressed or white-tuxed graduates. And then, after a couple of not terrible and thankfully brief speeches, they began calling the names. And they continued to call names. As they got toward the end, the win

ds picked up and the skies clouded over and a couple of threatening grumbles came from the sky. I breathed deeply, willing the rain to stay away. Waiting for The Name of the Niece. Finally, Roslyn. And as they processed out with the first raindrops, I felt a great joy for Roslyn and her transition. I felt the joy and spirit of the ritual.

This does not make me a ritual person, but it does help me understand ritual people. Maybe I'll get out my red tea pot and make cinnamon tea. Maybe I'll buy scones or something. And maybe I'll eat a scone and drink tea every day.

Maybe not. But the rituals and ceremonies that celebrate our transitions and our daily steps can give us peace, a place for joy or rest or reflection.

Maybe I'll be a ritual person, after all.