It came out of nowhere!
My father often complains that nothing in his life came easily, and that the trajectory was not a straight line. My response is the same every single time: Extremely rare is a person whose life is uncomplicated. In fact, I personally do not know of anyone who has not experienced the uncertainty and unpredictability of life. How we respond might be different and, often, that makes all the difference.
Our lives are filled with uncertainty. We understand it deep down, which is also why we appreciate the joke that the only two things that are certain in life are death and taxes. We do not know what tomorrow will bring.
When I look back at the traditional, religious, orthodox environment in which I was raised, I can see that elders dealt with the uncertainty by establishing regular patterns in their lives. Waking up was always at about the same time, which was followed by drinking coffee. Soon it was time to bathe and then pray to the gods. Women then began their kitchen work. In the old traditions, men like my great-grandfather spent a couple of hours reciting the old prayers. When cooking was done, a small offering was made to the gods, only after which was food consumed by all.
These are not mere daily happenings. Not their habit. These were not reflexive, unconscious, acts, but were performed regularly, often with a specific purpose in mind. It was a ritualistic life with awareness, intention, and focus, which gave the elders a sense of meaning and purpose to their lives, and—to a large extent—delivered to them a sense of order and control too.
Add to that the multiple holy days, each with a specific set of behaviors and even foods. And, of course, the regular visits to the temple. I bet that these rituals made their lives less of a problem when dealing with the chaotic and often brutal world.
The rituals offered them a strong buffer against the anxiety that comes with uncertainties—like my paternal grandfather’s unexpected death during a visit to the big city of Madras when my father was a six-week old infant, or my maternal grandfather dropping dead from a heart attack when he was only 51; or the disruptions in employment, the health complications, …
My aged parents live that kind of a ritualistic life even now. My father, for instance, has to bathe by 7:30 in the morning even though there is no urgency; it is not as if he is a working man who has to report to his boss. After bathing, he says his prayers. Then walks over to the prayer area and offers thanks to the gods with bananas or apples or whatever. My increasingly bedridden mother too likes to follow a schedule that is less of a schedule and more of a ritual. These are not routines but rituals.
So much of our lives is dictated by forces — economic, political, physiological, ecological — over which we have little control. Ritual, on the other hand, gives us all a powerful tool for helping to shape and reshape our lives, says Bradd Shore, a psychological anthropologist who has spent a career studying the phenomenon.
“My surprising conclusion is that ritual is perhaps the most powerful tool in the human toolkit that is largely under local control,” Shore says. It’s one of the lessons he learned during the decade in which he headed Emory University’s now-defunct Center for Myth and Ritual in American Life, which the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation tasked with examining the role of ritual and storytelling in the life of southern middle-class families.
That is an excerpt from the publisher’s (MIT Press) interview with the author. Bradd Shore is the author of “The Hidden Powers of Ritual: A Journey of a Lifetime“.
It makes absolute sense to me when Shore describes “rituals as routines with a significant symbolic load.” My parents’ routines are not mere routines. In particular, I like this argument that Shore offers:
So many of the forces that impinge on our lives are well beyond our control. We make contributions to charities to help the unfortunate, but we really can’t cure cancer, prevent homelessness, or end the war in Ukraine. Faced with inflation, we make small adjustments to our spending, trim our budgets, or take on an extra job. But we really cannot do much about the economy. To help the environment or slow climate change, we may recycle our garbage or invest in an electric car. But we know we’re not making much of a dent in the climate or the environment.
But there is one thing over which we have remarkable control: how we shape our time. My surprising conclusion is that ritual is perhaps the most powerful tool in the human toolkit that is largely under local control. Orchestrating our rituals is a human power.
And the final point that he makes:
And finally, there are the miraculous powers of individual rituals, which can provide a surprising sense of peace and comfort in the face of sorrow, loneliness, or stress. Consider the power of an evening cup of tea enjoyed in a favorite teacup. Quickly, “a cup of tea” becomes “my cup of tea” as you take a simple act to heart. Ritualization is a potent stabilizing agent, a simple salve for a stressful time if only we are mindful of how we use its powers.
There’s that word again: Mindful.
What are your mindful rituals that help you deal with the uncertain and chaotic world?