There are so many ways to create rituals in our lives. We might engage in formal practices that shape our day to day lives, like making a cup of tea and sitting on our meditation cushion to engage with the world from a place of grounded presence. My personal relationship with ritual shifts over time, based on what I need and what feels resonant in the moment. Some days, I might stand in the path of the rising sun, feeling the light on my face and breathing in gratitude for my connection with the Earth. Other days, I light a stick of incense and offer my gratitude in a more formal way to the spirits of the land and all the other beings who inhabit the place where I live. I thank the Earth for loving me and reminding me of my connection and my responsibility. I might offer another stick of incense to the well and thank the water for nourishing my spirit and my body, for feeding the plants and all of the animals on the land.
I make altars everywhere that I spend any concentrated time. Every surface seems to have a deliberate function of calling my attention to what matters to me and makes me feel whole. At the sink, there is a small group of objects with a Tara statue and orchids so that I can contemplate the sacred while I do the mundane task of washing the dishes. Other altars, like the one at the entryway of my house, I tend very deliberately with a regular transition of objects and adornments that correspond to the seasonal celebrations of the year. This ritual offers me an opportunity to practice tuning into my own energies and needs for that part of the year. Right now, as Beltane approaches, I know that I will be shifting from the bright yellow altar cloth, which embodies the cheerfulness that the beginning of spring brings, to a more intense red and green cloth that embodies the growing intensity and building of energy in the plant and animal worlds. My own energy begins to become more frenetic, working harder to get everything ready for the growing season and tending to the needs of the outside as well as the inside of my home. While I love this time of the year, I also know that it means working all day and then coming home to work more.
This year, after living through a year-plus of the pandemic and working multiple jobs in addition to managing my gardens, food preservation, and herbal practice, Beltane has me contemplating the workers’ holiday of May Day and the unsustainable demands that capitalism makes on us as workers. We are asked to sacrifice our very lives, in some cases, but most certainly the majority of our time to the labor of the market.
What would it look like to create rituals that transform our relationship to work? How can we bring awareness to the inequalities that exist in our society to shift what we give to capitalism? How can we aid one another to get our basic needs met in ways that do not involve the exchange of capital? What new systems can we build as the systems around us break down?
This type of contemplation is a ritual in and of itself—bringing conscious attention and intention to an idea and building energy around those intentions. What are you contemplating right now that feels nourishing to your spirit?
For some, ritual looks like prayer; for others, it looks like taking a meditative walk. What does your spirit need? How can you tend your body and mind in this time of great transition? Find one thing you can do each day (it doesn’t have to be the same thing!) that brings you into connection with your own sacredness and to the rest of the world. We are intimately connected with every other being on the planet. Let’s build a system that supports all beings.