It was a few weeks early, knowing that snow would most likely come again before spring, but I went ahead and did it anyway. It was time. My spring ritual. The uncovering of a circle of beach bricks I created in a secret, undisclosed place in the Massachusetts countryside.
Two years ago, I found myself wanting to pray but didn't want to get tripped up in my own words, or phrases that meant things to other people, but not me. I wanted to communicate honestly. From my heart. Not my mind. So I created my first "Prayer Without Words" using beach bricks that I had collected over a period of decades. The experience (of which I may write about in the future) was life changing. But as powerful as that experience was, like many significant experiences, it can surprisingly be forgotten in the unrealistic demands of the day. The things we hold dear, especialy spiritual things, can unfortunately get lost, forgotten, or covered up.
In religious traditions, ritual has historically been critical for spiritual and unfortunately, nonspiritual reasons. Sometimes, the original messages gets lost along the way, or perhaps was never completely experienced or understood.
I go back to my Prayer Without Words in the spring for the ritual. For the reminding. For the renewal. For the connection. From my point of view, for ritual to be justified, it has to be my ritual. It has to be my language, spoken or unspoken.
If you find yourself with in a belief but not connecting with the ritual, perhaps it is the language that is tripping you up. Perhaps it is not your ritual. Perhaps it needs to be done in your own words, spoken or unspoken.
© Beth Adoette
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