RITUALS
We are weak vessels
That create ritual in times of stress
To lessen the shock
So that we can cope
With what we are presented.
I toss a handful of dirt on your grave
A glass shatters beneath a groom’s heel
You honour your duty to go on Hadj
A Mason dons his regalia.
We shake hands when we part.
I used to shun ritual
I thought ritual was made to evade
Or trivialize unpleasant events
Reduce them to gestures and cant
To spare the weak.
Ritual made light of trauma
And dampened the moment of joy
It took the sting out of death
And celebrated birth
With circumcision and holy water.
However:
When we are denied ritual
We are hollowed out.
We are denied the means of transition
There is before and there is after
Ritual formalizes our transitions.
We know where we began
And we know where we are going
Ritual is a convenient shortcut
That carries us from here to the there
When the way is uncertain.
I learned the rituals at my father’s knee
I cast them aside for a time
When I was foolish and arrogant
Now I recognize their worth
To grant a period of grace
For grief and joy
To find a place.