Comforting Rituals

When I was in junior high, my best friend Mary Lynn lived on a ranch outside of town. It was always a totally unique experience for me to visit her at the ranch. Wide open windows in the living and dinning rooms looked out not only at their vast land spotted with cattle grazing quietly, but also from this vantage point you could watch whomever was making their way down their long drive. Their "drive", not nearly the same as my suburban driveway was their own private road and from the dinning room we would watch a cloud of smoke turn into a car - "oh here comes Karen". It was a different experience to anticipate someone's arrival with so much enthusiasm. The trip out was also fun however in its own ritualistic way. Whenever any members of their family, and those friends who were in the know about this ritual, would leave, they would "beep beep" their horn and we would wave as they drove out. I loved this ritual and it was so fun to participate as I'd make sure my mom would honk appropriately as we drove by and I'd wave vigorously.

There haven't been too many times in my life where I lived at a house where a departing honk would work as well. But lately I have resurrected this ritual in a most ideal fashion. My grandson Jaden at almost two is totally into trucks, cars and beeping of horns. Even though they too live on a residential street and I don't have a long driveway to drive, I have started doing the "beep beep" as I leave, in my heart the same feelings of departure within me. "Bye bye" the honk says, see you soon. I smile to myself, wondering if he heard, picturing his eyes becoming wide, him looking at his mommy and saying "beep beep" and many even someday, knowing who it is, smiling knowingly saying "Nana".

Why I Think Hilary Was Right...

It really does take a village to raise a child. No matter how dedicated we parents may be, we need support, we need relief, we need the intimacy that comes from sharing within a family. While having a respite and allowing a spouse, friend, parent or grandparent to watch a child for a time is important, what I'm talking about is the deeper contribution to the creation of this child's upbringing, just by being an integral part of his life. I was told the other day that much of how a kid turns out comes from the community he is raised in, not just the interaction he receives from his parents, (not to minimize the huge role that is in a child's life).

If a child is raised in a family that is happy, accepting, affectionate and dedicated to the child's well-being, what a difference that can make to his self-esteem and confidence. This love, acceptance and bonding can begin at birth, and it can begin with the public acknowledgment of that child's birth at a Baby Blessing/Naming Ceremony. Having a ceremony to honor a new baby is an ancient tradition with specific rituals being practiced in every culture. The premise is basically the same: honoring the parents who have taken on a new role in life as parents (even if they are 2nd,3rd, etc-time parents, it's still a new role), honoring of the grandparents in their new role, introduction of the new babe to it's 'Community' and asking that the community vow to do their part in raising this child, forming this child, mentoring this child to be the best he can be.

Such a ceremony cements the family, gives the parents confidence knowing they have the backing of their greater family, trusting they will hold their child's needs in mind. In our more modern times where "tribes" do not necessarily live in the same town or even state any longer, how precious to have such a ceremony to bring the members together, if only symbolically and say - We are Family; This is My Tribe".

I love keeping this ancient tradition alive, setting aside the time to gather round, share wisdom, honor the name given to the child and the significance thereof, and to confirm to the little one that he indeed has roots and soil in which to grow.

Cindie's Passage of Becoming a Celebrant

Ceremony. Ritual. Life passages. Story. These are all things I love. If I look carefully, I find these everywhere, in everything and everyone and noting them brings me closer to my environment and the people within it.

I spent the past 5 days on the opposite coast from where I live, seeped in story, my own life passage, ceremony and ritual. This was my journey to becoming a Certified LifeCycle Celebrant! After many long months of study, I made the long, sometimes anxious trip (picture me running to just barely catch my connecting flight both directions of this journey) to the shores of the Hudson River to attend the Wisdom Conference and my graduation. Along the way I met a large room full of fellow celebrants, men and women, from around our globe, all with their own personal story of work and accomplishment to get there. Each of them so unique, yet we all shared enough commonality that I felt I had known them all for a very long time.

I hung out for 5 days at the Hyatt on the Hudson, with an amazing view of the New York City skyline. I was mesmerized by the view, mostly because I could not help thinking of the accumulation of stories that existed within that skyline and those buildings, those people. I spent as much time as I could soaking up the stories, walking the streets and shoreways of New Jersey and New York. I think I toured the entirety of Battery Park on foot, took the underwater subway called PATH, traveled across the Hudson on the ferry 5 or 6 times and was a curious observer of my country's past and present.

It was an interesting perspective, really the eagle vs mouse vision. Instead of viewing the city just from the beautiful vantage point of across the Hudson, I got into the mouse view, seeing the story through the faces and ancient buildings of history. You've heard how people say you are rarely a tourist in your own town? Well I was a tourist in my own country, sometimes very aware of the many people who had not had the chance to be tourists in their own town. I had a mission one morning to walk to the Brooklyn bridge then over it. I was told I only needed to walk down this bike path and "it's right there". It was not that intuitive and I found myself consulting my map and many Brooklyn-accented policemen trying to find out where to get onto the bridge by foot. Many had no idea, they had never had this perspective of the bridge, only traveling it by car and some seemed confused by my desire/need to travel it by foot. But it was my mission and I was not going to rest until I found it and walked it which I did.

I like this perspective. Walking the old bridge, being on Liberty Island and Ellis Island, walking shoulder to shoulder with fellow humans, I could feel the presence of our ancestors who probably similarly had to ask for directions, who came with their own stories of work and accomplishment and life passage bringing their own rituals and ceremonies with them. But it is not only the east coast of our country that is rich with history. We all have a story, a history that cements us and connects us. This is what I vow to keep alive - my story, your story, our story.