People are much the same. We all have own rituals before bed: clean teeth, do certain things around the house, always in a certain order. Getting dressed in the morning: boxers, shirt, pants, socks; or is it shirt, socks, boxers, pants? Much of life is ritualized but rituals are often written off as mere superstition, as silly. And doubtless some are. "I can't possibly win if I don't wear these particular socks that I have not washed since my winning streak began." Not just silly but smelly too! But are all rituals meaningless?
Likely not. On one level, rituals prepare us for action, for what comes next. Life just doesn't sit right if we don't carry out the ritual. Religious rituals are often of this kind. Life just goes more smoothly with the ritual: mantras in the morning, saying the Lord's Prayer before work, a few rounds of the rosary, church attendance, mass, five times a day prayers, saying the Daily Office. Establishing such rituals performs the function of ordering life.
On another level, rituals are closely connected to motor memory; things like driving a car (no pun intended). We perform the ritual again and again until it sinks deep into our body's motor memory: check the mirrors, foot on the brake, shift into drive, check the mirrors again, glance over your shoulder, release the brake, change foot to the accelerator, turn the wheel. Our rituals internalize the mundane in order for us to be spontaneous, to be creative. The young driver's hours behind the wheel learning the ritual—tedious, scary, boring—pays dividends when she no longer needs to think about the ritual. The ritual is ultimately freeing.
During the week I listened to the BBC Radio 4 podcast on Shakespeare's Sonnets. Host Melvyn Brag and his guests suggested that Shakespeare had become so adept at the form of the sonnet through long ritualized practice that he could whip up a "quick" sonnet with relative ease. The Bard's ritualized practice of sonnet construction was so internalized that he no longer needed to dwell on the form; his creativity was released.
Music is much the same. The ritual of scales, arpegios, intervals, repetition are often boring, necessary, and ritualized. Yet in time the movement of fingers and breath become second nature. After ritual comes magic.
Jack Balkin comments :
"Great musicians inspire and ennoble us, but their ability to do so is the result of years of hard work and practice at their craft. Music is the perfect example of the preparation that results in a seemingly spontaneous inspiration and connection with a higher power. As it is in music, so it is in life: creativity and improvisation are made possible by prior development; instinct is the child of practice; spontaneity is the residue of design." The Laws of Change, Hexagram 16.
Ritualize saying "Thank you!" and in time you become a thankful, open person. Ritualize small acts of kindness and in time you become a kind, caring and generous person. Ritualize moments of stillness through intentional meditation and in time you become a calmer more centered version of yourself.
Rituals, then, both prepare us for action—for what come's next—and create structure in which we live our best lives.
Three cheers for "meaningless" rituals!
Peace and all Good,
+Ab. Andy
*Melvyn Bragg, In our Time: Shakespeare's Sonnets, June 24, 2021, podcast.