#22 Rituals - Olivia

The ritual is a rare bird.

It's the bizarre cousin of tradition and habit that fraternizes with a more serious edge.  It lacks the same nonchalance (in my estimation) as garden variety "routine," but it also seems more habitual and quirky than the idea of tradition.  The word ritual invokes a certain sacred nature for me.  I think of Egyptians, to be honest.  Rituals seem like they need outfits, but I'm probably just confusing that for basic preparation.

I suppose a ritual doesn't have to include virginal sacrifice, but I do think it should hold a little pomp.   Even the most seemingly trivial rituals can hold a note of ceremony if you do it right. 

While I hesitate to say that I don't have any personal rituals, they are certainly few and far between.  Perhaps writing on this blog counts as a ritual?  But even then, we can see I was thrown off by the holidays (don't worry folks, you'll get those posts back.)  Other than that, I'm stumped to think of my own rituals.  I feel like I had several when I was young, but some how grew out of them. 

When I was young, I remember after school rituals best.  After school, I would come to my grandparents house, pick up the remote and watch very specific television shows.  My sister and I would watch the same television shows until they stopped airing, and then we would move on and find something else.  I'm pretty sure I watched the entirety of The Power Rangers at my grandmother's house.  I also saw the rise and fall of The Rosie O'Donnell Show.  But what made this mere habit of watching shows after school into a full blown ritual would be presence and sanctity of the Schwann man treats. 

If I was aware of my grandparents being superb at something, it was their taste in treats for their grandchildren.  Otter pops, Push-pops, Creamsicles, Mini cups filled with all kinds of frozen delights, and most hallowed of all, the Mississippi Mud bar.  

But eventually, the after school ritual came to an abrupt end when I switched schools in 7th grade.  And really, nothing came to replace it.  Since then, I've been a "fly by the seat of my pants" kinda gal.  I get antsy with monotony.  I change my hair all the time and crave the thrill of something new. 

That said, I do admire the ritual and generally like the idea, but I'm just not sure where it would fit in my life. 

Maybe that should be a 2011 goal?

Goals of 2011 thus far:

1) Read constantly.
2) Write just as often.
3) Try foods I remember disliking.
4) Learn to sew.
5) Get hair cuts regularly.
6) Speak jive.
7) Get on a regular sleeping schedule.
8) Thoughtfully create rituals.