Holidays are all about traditions and rituals help make the season special. Rituals help us witness and experience what’s important in our life. Whether they are shared with others or experienced alone, they help mark significant moments.
Last year, the holidays were confusing during the pandemic and many rituals changed and died. Gathering with 6 or more indoors was discouraged. Weddings, funerals, and not being with loved ones in their final days all got lost. As we adjusted to this change and loss, a door opened. It’s an invitation to step forward and make a conscious decision; what past rituals do we continue, what rituals do we release, and what new rituals reflect who we are now.
Rituals have the power to make the ordinary, extraordinary. Whether these rituals are a simple ceremony or something that marks a big life event, they make the mundane into something memorable. A ritual usually has a beginning, middle, and end, and most consist of specific intentions and actions. They give us space to express and explore the amazing celebrations and heartbreaking challenges of life.
Public rituals help us connect to other people and include meaningful acts in our family, culture, religion, and spirituality. Gatherings like going to concerts and plays are ways to celebrate life. The ritual of singing the national anthem before the beginning of a baseball game creates community and excitement. Graduations and birthdays mark important life events. We give a baby shower for pregnant women to celebrate new life. I remember the church ritual of greeting those around you saying hello and wishing each other peace. Or we can have a prayer ritual before Thanksgiving dinner by holding hands, bowing our heads to say grace, and then we say amen. In fact, Thanksgiving itself is a ritual.
There can be small silly rituals too. On Christmas eve when my sister and I were young, we would take all the presents out from under the Christmas tree and make a pile and organize our presents. It was probably to see who got the most presents that year, and it was usually my sister. Then we would place them back under the tree, leave some cookies and milk for Santa, then go to bed in anticipation of the next morning.
Private rituals can include almost anything: meditating during a specific time of day to help center our mind and body, writing in a journal to capture your thoughts, making your bed in the morning so you could have a beautiful space to return to in the evening, going to the gym for a workout to build a strong body and mind to meet the challenges of the day, or sitting down and reading a book to get lost in a compelling story. This is something we do to bring order, keep centered, and stay fit when we’re feeling overwhelmed.
Rituals are sacred ways to honor loss. We have funerals when people die to help mourners center themselves and find a way forward. When we gather one last time to honor someone who has died, we wear black and bring flowers. In Christianity, we mourn and celebrate the deceased loved one being reunited with Jesus. In Judaism, people sit shiva, a seven-day mourning period, while Catholics hold a mass, and Muslims wash the body and shroud it in three sheets. We may have many different actions, but the rituals all have one thing in common; the person matters to us.
When my sister died from cancer, I needed a ritual with my friends and family that went beyond her Christian funeral. While her funeral was a sacred ceremony for the going home to God, I missed Ella and was devasted she was gone. My grief craved a ritual that was more intimate to help share about the baby sister I loved and missed. I formed a circle of chairs in my living room, placed a picture of her nearby, and created the space for anyone to share a memory about her. By creating this sacred circle, it connected us to express something meaningful and witness each other’s grief and love.
Rituals are powerful experiences that transform loss and struggle. They can be a guide to help us move forward, to help us grow and heal. Sacred ceremonies help us process challenging emotions because loss is draining. Grief brain can make our mind scattered and chaotic. We need something to center our mind, body, and spirit. They help us become present in the moment and guide us to reflect on what really matters. They help us when we feel lost and disorganized. When we don’t know what to do, they help us reflect on what matters. We light a candle next to a picture of a loved one who has died to honor that love and to express how much we miss them.
These rituals around loss and struggle can be challenging. Grief and loss deserve time. The pain is asking for attention. Delving into loss, grief, and trauma is an active way to acknowledge all you have been through. You’re taking some space to feel and breathe and remember the love.
Most rituals include movement or voice. A movement ritual is important because it physically moves us in a different place. I created Grief Yoga as a ritual to honor loss – blending movement, yoga, breath, and sound to transform pain. My mission with Grief Yoga is to offer a sacred ceremony to be with and move through our struggle. It is a compassionate, empowering practice to channel the pain to help us connect to more courage, love, and purpose. Movement is so healing when we have pent-up emotions.
As the pandemic disrupted our lives all around the world, it impacted our ceremonies. The rituals we used in the past to process loss, like gathering together, became dangerous. Instead of holding hands, lighting candles, and crying on someone’s shoulder, we had to say goodbye to loved ones on FaceTime and attend Zoom funerals.
When we can’t process our losses with other people, the intensity of our grief can get suppressed and delayed. Grief needs dedicated time and space.
The grieving process was so disrupted, it became even more challenging to process loss. Funerals and burials aren’t just for the deceased; they’re also for the living. When we don’t have our grief witnessed, it can create an immense emotional challenge, resulting in anxiety and depression. These negative effects can impact our physical and mental health and our immune systems, causing an increase in alcohol and substance abuse. This can make it hard to concentrate, and it disrupts our sleep patterns. These losses will no doubt cause delayed grief in many people. It is good to note that our grief knows when it is time to come down from the shelf for healing. Of course, when delayed grief hits, it never feels like it’s a good time. But when it does come down, our job is to be present for it and not make it wrong for showing up.
While we may crave connecting with others, sometimes we are forced to isolate and grieve alone. Creating personal rituals can be a powerful way to honor change and loss. A personal ritual helps us to express and acknowledge grief and can give us structure at a time when we are feeling lost. They make something as intangible as grief feel tangible.
Stacy, a client of mine who was grieving the betrayal of her boyfriend, wrote him a letter describing her hurt. Writing the letter gave her pain some expression, but she also felt it in her body. She embraced a Grief Yoga technique called Pounding Out, which incorporates movement and sound by hitting or pounding on a pillow using fists and her voice to help her release the unspoken rage. When complete, she never sent the letter, but instead, she gathered pictures of the two of them and burned them and the letter. It helped her to create a mind/body ritual to express her pain to let go.
When you are creating a personal private ritual, do what’s comfortable for you and make it your own. Here are some things to consider when creating a personal ritual:
- Designate a specific time and place.
- Think of actions that symbolize your feelings.
- Ring a bell at the beginning and at the end. This will help you enter and exit the sacred space consciously.
- Light a candle.
- Say a prayer.
- Read an inspiring poem.
- Sing a song or play music.
- Write a letter about your pain and struggle.
You might sit quietly through the whole ritual and not move at all, and that’s perfect, too.
This pandemic changed us. As we enter the holidays and witness what we lost from the past, we can also witness that something new is being born. The past teaches us how our ancestors embraced ceremonies to commemorate life and death. And now, we get to decide which past rituals we want to continue or adapt and create new rituals to reflect who we are now. Whatever way you choose to experience ritual, be open to letting it shift your energy. Witness how you can make an ordinary moment into something sacred.
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