Ceremony, Ritual & the process of Joy
Attending to the everydayness of life unfolding
Sunday was the beginning of another moon cycle. It is the first new moon after the equinox and it was the day I intended to begin hosting ancestor rituals for other people. What transpired is that it became a day of hosting hearth; my own, my home and my kids with an attention that is often lost in the pace of every day life.
Ritual and Ceremony are two words I use regularly and are the deeper roots of my practice and work. They describe a kind of attention and intention in the way I attend to what I am doing or who I am, in any given moment. It is also a practice of radical inclusion. Listening to the wider field of life humming and reaching out in unexpected ways.
On Sunday morning as I moved from the dream world to waking, I began imagining the day and chose to be at home with only the sounds around me for company. I chose to make beautiful food with full attention and joy, and to deep clean the kitchen and clean my living room and altar (which I had not paid attention to for months).
At some point, I received a message from a dear friend who was listening to a birthday playlist I made for the both of us, so I shifted the sounds of my day to music. I danced, and remembered all the beautiful friends, new and old, that we shared our birthday celebrations with.
I spent time thinking of my grandparents and their influence on our lives, and the rituals that still live within me and my children; an abundance in giving, playfulness and mischief, storytelling and a generosity towards others.
As I write this and think of what the gift is in writing a reflection for the collective body, it is the reminder that every day, in fact every moment, is an opportunity to connect with what feels important. That there is a tide of health, hope, joy and abundance available and within reach.
Ritual and ceremony take us to those places. Sometimes a ritual can be a couple of minutes of bringing full attention to our breath. Or making a coffee in the morning, a yoga session, a mindful walk or a slow conversation and reflection with a friend. At other times it can be a day, on the turning of a moon cycle. And sometimes our lives are framed in this context, so that we can dip in and out of this; underground spring trickling, leaf unfurling, cloud gliding, offering of joy.
How are you practicing attention and intention, in gentle and softly focussed ways, each day?
Image from Richard Wagamese, Embers, One Ojibway’s Meditations. A book I use regularly for inspiration and which I purchase for friends and people I come into contact with who can share this wisdom in their own circles.
Music to dance to which has caught my attention during the last moon cycle.