A Time to Gather (Bruce Feiler)

 

A while ago I decided I needed to re-read more often. Each month I pick a book that is worth re-reading. This month I was to re-read The Ritual Effect, but this book came up in my e-book holds at the library so I decided to read it instead. It was well-worth it and a good companion to The Ritual Effect. 

I really like this author. I put a couple more of his books on hold.

The first few chapters were about rituals we go through in life: birth rituals, entering adulthood, marriage, divorce...and of course, death. I read the death chapter while at my Auntie Shirley's building. I was waiting for her to arrive back at the senior's home from the hospital. I went down to the chapel where it was quiet and read there. They had a table set up with pictures of people who had passed away over the past six months (or maybe it was a year. I can't recall). Anyway, it was a weird mash up of coincidences to be reading about death outside a Catholic chapel with pictures and birth and death dates of all the people from that home. 

Notes:

- p. 229 Rituals are a means of collective time travel. And there's no better place to begin those trips than from our original home: nature.

- p. 250 When times are easy and there's plenty to go around, individuals can go it alone. But when conditions are harsh and life is tenuous, it takes a team sworn to reciprocity to keep life going forward (actually from Braiding Sweetgrass).

p. 260 What distinguishes ritual from routine and habit:

• Rituals are intentional, symbolic, elevated actions
• Routines are intentional, repeated actions.
• Habits are automatic, repeated actions

Chapter 12 was called The Garden of Lost Children all about rituals around pregnancy loss - miscarriage, stillborn births, death of children and even abortions. He had a lot of information about stillborn children - which of course, really touched me. I had a stillborn baby in 2007. She would be 19 this year! 

• p. 335 Apparently, King Tut (Tutankhamen) was buried with two stillborn baby girls. ...largely because Carter kept it secret. p. 338 In 1978, the two mummies were x-rayed and discovered to be stillborn girls who had died at twenty-four and thirty-six weeks. They had congenital abnormalities related to spina bifida that are consistent with inbreeding - Tutankhamen's parents were biological siblings, which explains his twisted spine, elongated skull, and club foot; his wife was his half sister. In 2001, The British medical historian Geoffrey Chamberlain argued that the mummies were identical girls who suffered from twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome - the same condition the author and his wife and been warned about - which led to their premature deaths.

• p. 338 I met a woman who every year on the anniversary of her abortion would make a meal that her child would have liked at that age - in the early years it was juice boxes and candy necklaces, in the teenage years it was hamburgers and french fries. She would knit a red cap, place a bib on the statue, and serve a meal. It was an ocean of love.
• p. 340 Irish traditions around baby deaths - they would bury corpses under the roofs of churches, a practice known as eaves-drop burials, so that dripping water might stealthily baptize their unprotected children
• p. 343 Many of the rituals around child death are done in a group. There's so much shame around losing a child. The only medicine strong enough to counter that pain is the bllessings of not being alone.
• p. 344 In the 2000s, scholars released studies showing that parents who see, hold, sniff, dress, kiss, and comfort their stillborn children have better mental health outcomes than those denied the privilege.
• p. 346 As Cheryl Haggard observed (started an organization called Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, a nonprofit that offers free, professional remembrance photos to families that have lost a child), "Some may look at us and think we photograph dead or dying babies, my perspective is: We don't photograph death, we capture love. And the love between a parent and a child can never be broken."
• Chapter 13 is called A Moment of Hope and is all about cleansing rituals (water or oil....if only the author knew about our temples) and renewing rituals (again....this made me think of our temple). It also talked about "potlatches"....a ritual where people give all they have collected to those less fortunate (hello law of consecration?)
• Interesting podcast to check out: Shame Pinata: Creating Rites of Passage for Real-Life Transitions
• p. 383 Rituals connect us; the correct imbalances among us; they celebrate our loftiest moments; they chronicle our deepest aspirations. But mostly they make us feel at home. As Thomas Hovenden captured in another moment of national crises, they replace our grief over broken home ties with a vision of ties that bind.

P. 393 How to design your own rituals: 

• 1. Reverence: Do what makes you feel at home. Identify what you're most missing from home  - whether that's safety, empathy, love, or joy - and design a ritual with that goal in mind
• 2. Context: Identify your tension; define your intention. It must address the underlying uncertainty, fluidity and instability in the group; and provide comfort, relief, and support for that volatility. Ask, "What is our pain point? What is the tension, transition, or turbulence that we're experiencing?" Then, "What intention matches that tension?"
• A = agency (what we do, make, or create; our me story)
• B = belonging (our relationships, friends, loved ones, and colleagues; our we story)
• C = cause (a calling, mission, or purpose, our thee story)
• 3. Options: off-the-shelf or do-it-yourself, big or small, sacred space or third space.
• 4. Pointers: The four somethings (old, new, borrowed, you)
• 5. Instructions: boundaries, stakes, compromise, empathy, hope 
• draw a boundary that defines the sacred space
• articulate the stakes
• compromise-rehearse on something important
• create and atmosphere of empathy
• end with a moment of hope

• p. 400 Rituals work in times of change because they titrate change. They work in times of social upheaval because they modulate social upheaval. They work in times of religious flux because the bridge the religious, the irreligious, the spiritual, and the I'm not religious but I'm spiritual.
• Rituals work because they are acts. They are values lived out loud. As the old adage goes, it's easier to act oneself into a new way of thinking than to think oneself into a new way of acting. A genius of ritual is that it's an old way of acting that leads to a new way of thinking.
• Rituals work because they are shared. Our earliest ancestors shouted, waved sticks, and stamped their feet in unison to signal to predators that they were more powerful together than they were apart; our latest brain researchers have shown that when we sing, dance, eat, or work together, not only do our bodies synchronize, but our feelings do, too. To be in union is to become a union; to be in a group is to become a groupkeeper.
• Rituals work because they are unnecessary. We live in a stranglehold of necessities, with deadening schedules, dulling routines, and draining obligations. Rituals are the unnecessities that unyoke those necessities - they upend schedules, disrupt routines, sideline obligations. They force us to focus on what Keats deemed our "negative capability," the ability to be in "uncertainties, Mysteries, doubts" without reflexively grasping for reason or explanation.
• Finally, rituals work because they are portable, replicable versions or home. "The ache for home lives in all of us," Maya Angelou said, "The safe place where we can go as we are." Today we need that safe space more than ever - for morale making, for meaning making, for memory making.

Goodreads says:

At a time when our shared humanity is under threat and traditional life rituals are losing favor, one of our great decoders of human connection chronicles the astonishing rise of reinvented life rituals around the world and offers a blueprint for restoring togetherness.

It’s easy to be overwhelmed by the sharp decline in the types of life rituals that have been the tentpoles of family and community life since time immemorial. Birth rituals have plummeted, as have comings-of-age. Fewer than half of Americans are married today; only one in three is buried. “It took us ten thousand years to establish cultural norms around how we mark collective life transitions,” writes Bruce Feiler. “It took us fifty years to dismantle them.” We have clearly entered what Feiler calls a “celebration recession.” Can this threat to society be reversed? 

Feiler wanted to find out. As he did with his groundbreaking series Walking the Bible, Feiler went on a round-the-world ritual road trip, attending—and participating in—life rituals in sixteen countries on six continents. These rarely seen spectacles include an adolescent tooth filing in Bali, a mass baptism in the Vatican, and a tribal bride price negotiation in South Africa. He witnessed six weddings in a day in Las Vegas and ten funerals in a week in Ireland.

As he did with Life Is in the Transitions, Feiler also gathered the stories of a hundred ritual designers in twenty-six countries, including a Pentecostal priest in Nigeria who started a fertility circle, the creator of the Purple Pundit Project in New Jersey who leads LGBTQ+ Hindu weddings, and the founder of an app in Canada that helps “create your own rites of passage.”

What Feiler emerged with is a literary achievement, at once a great adventure story in the tradition of Sebastian Junger and Cheryl Strayed; a richly reported sociological portrait in the vein of Robert Putnam and Barbara Ehrenreich; and a conversation-shaping piece of social commentary in the mode of David Brooks and Jonathan Haidt.

Far from a ritual recession, we are in the midst of a  ritual renaissance, one that our outdated radar screens have failed to pick up. Fed up with top-down life rituals, everyday people are reimagining rituals at a pace unseen in human history. From boomers to Gen Z and boosted by social media, this new movement is reviving life rituals for a new century and building thriving communities in the process.

From a master storyteller on the trail of an urgent, untold story, what Feiler has created is a hopeful field guide to modern ritual; a tool kit for infusing collective meaning into our lives; and, perhaps, a framework for repairing our homesick world.

An Ordinary Day (Elena K Arnold)

 

Well, I should have read this one ahead of reading it to my class.  

We recently put our family dog down. This was a tough one to read! 

It is a beautiful story though. 

Goodreads says:

An ordinary day in an ordinary neighborhood turns out to be quite extraordinary in this story about the circle of life.

It’s an average day in the neighborhood—children play, roses are watered, and a crow watches over it all. But then two visitors arrive at two houses, one to help a family say hello to a new baby and one to help a family say goodbye to a beloved pet.

Educated (Tara Westover)

I read this book slowly. Sometimes I wanted to soak it up. Sometimes I could only take so much.

Part of what really drew me in was the dysfunctional traits I saw in families I know. Tara's family honors their father and even though he is clearly out of line, mentally ill and puts family members' lives in danger, the unwavering dedication to following him was an extreme example of things I've seen. Tara doesn't follow quite so easily and struggles for years as she goes in and out of feeling comfortable with that expectation. It made me uncomfortable that they were members of the church. However, she is careful to add that this isn`t a story about the church. It`s a story about family and mental illness and dysfunctional relationships. They took what the church teaches to an unhealthy extreme. I felt shame that it could be rooted in something I love but turn into something so terrible. Now she is no longer active in the church. I`m not surprised. It`s pretty impossible to grow up with abuse and have a good relationship with religion and God. Her abuse was too connected and excused by religious teachings and breaking free of that was really the only way to get healthy.

People in the family have a series of terrible accidents that are treated by oils and tinctures. Those were parts I could hardly stand.

Tara has a brother that is abusive and mentally ill. I don't know why the family defended him and let the needs of almost every one else in the family go unmet. I wanted to punch him in the face. The guy needs help and my guess is he'll end up in jail one day. I was angry at her mother for not standing up for her children. All through the book the family is preparing for the Day of Abomination. I felt like the mother was an abomination. She stood by her mentally ill husband even though there are windows of time where she admits he is fallible. She even stands by him when he for some absurd reason, refuses to admit (first I wrote see....but you can't tell me he couldn't see it) the abuse his son, Shawn dealt. Why do some parents do that? It is incomprehensible to me - but then again, it is something I`ve seen to a lesser extreme. Still, it makes me reel.

I loved that Tara is saved by education. Even though she never went to school, she learns to learn and goes to BYU to learn. She had to learn how to take tests, the importance of text books, and she had her mind opened to many things that we take for granted. She was saved by finally becoming educated, along with two of her brothers. It was truly a miracle.

p. 180 I did not think of my brother as that person; I doubt I will ever think of him that way. But something had shifted nonetheless. I had started on a path of awareness, had perceived something elemental about my brother, my father, myself. I had discerned the ways in which we had been sculpted by a tradition given to us by others, a tradition of which we were either willfully or accidentally ignorant. I had begun to understand that we had lent our voices to a discourse whose whole purpose was to dehumanize and brutalize others - because nurturing that discourse was easier, because retaining power always feels like the way forward.
     I could not have articulated this, not as I sweated through those searing afternoons in the forklift. I did not have the language I have now. But I understood this one fact: that a thousand times I had been called Nigger, and laughed and now I could not laugh. The word and the way Shawn said it hadn`t changed; only my ears were different. They no longer heard the jingle of a joke in it. What they heard was a signal, a call through time, which was answered with a mounting conviction: that never again would I allow myself to be made a food soldier in a conflict I did not understand.

Throughout the story, when she is away at BYU and then Cambridge, she doesn`t tell people much about her family. She hides their truths. Her mother abandons and allows her to be in danger when working with her dad and abused by her brother. Instead of feeling rage, Tara feels shame. However, along the way something clicks that causes a change:

p. 273 I told them I`d been poor. I told them I`d been ignorant, and in telling them this I felt not he slightest prick of shame. Only then did I understand where the shame had come from: it wasn`t that I hadn`t studied in a marble conservatory, or that my father wasn`t a diplomat. It wasn`t that Dad was half out of his mind, or that Mother followed him. It had  come from having a father who shoved me toward the chomping blades of the Shear, instead of pulling me away from them. It had come from those moments on the floor, from knowing that Mother was in the next room, closing her eyes and ears to me, choosing, for that moment, not to be my mother at all.

Her brother, Tyler, finally gets it and stands up. In the end, although he recognizes the abuse, he doesn`t distance himself totally from the family. What he said to Tara though was so true:

p. 316 Our parents are held down by chains of abuse, manipulation, and control....They see change as dangerous and will exile anyone who asks for it. This is a perverted idea of family loyalty...they claim faith, but this is not what the gospel teaches. Keep safe. We love you.

Tara has to become a new person to survive. She has to separate herself from her parents and now has no relationship with them. So many times when she`d go back to her family I wanted to scream, `Don`t go!` The compelling ties to family make living a healthy life really difficult for her. I get that. I feel for her. Finally, in the end, she decided she could not live a healthy life with them in it.

p. 328 If there was a single moment when he breach between us, which had been cracking and splintering for two decides, was at least too vast to be bridged, I believe it was that winter night, when I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, while, without m knowing it, my father grasped the phone in his knotted hands and dialed my brothe, Diego, the knife. What followed was very dramatic. But the real drama had already played out in the bathroom.
     It had played out when, for reasons I don`t understand, I was unable to climb through the mirror and send out my sixteen-year-old self in my place.
     Until that moment she had always been there. No matter how much I appeared to have changed - how illustrious my education, ow altered my appearance - I was still her. At best I was two people, a fractured mind. She was inside, and emerged whenever I crossed the threshold of my father`s house.
     That night I called on her and she didn`t answer. She left me. She stayed in the mirror. The decisions I made after that momet were not the ones she would have made. They were the choices of a changed person, a new self.
     You could call this selfhood many things. Transformation. Metamorphosis. Falsity. Betrayal.
     I can it an education.

I found myself googling information about this family after I finished the book. Are they real? Do they really run a health business? Where are her parents now? It looks like they're still denying everything.They also run a huge business.


Goodreads says:

An unforgettable memoir in the tradition of The Glass Castle about a young girl who, kept out of school, leaves her survivalist family and goes on to earn a PhD from Cambridge University

Tara Westover was 17 the first time she set foot in a classroom. Born to survivalists in the mountains of Idaho, she prepared for the end of the world by stockpiling home-canned peaches and sleeping with her "head-for-the-hills bag". In the summer she stewed herbs for her mother, a midwife and healer, and in the winter she salvaged in her father's junkyard.

Her father forbade hospitals, so Tara never saw a doctor or nurse. Gashes and concussions, even burns from explosions, were all treated at home with herbalism. The family was so isolated from mainstream society that there was no one to ensure the children received an education and no one to intervene when one of Tara's older brothers became violent.

Then, lacking any formal education, Tara began to educate herself. She taught herself enough mathematics and grammar to be admitted to Brigham Young University, where she studied history, learning for the first time about important world events like the Holocaust and the civil rights movement. Her quest for knowledge transformed her, taking her over oceans and across continents, to Harvard and to Cambridge. Only then would she wonder if she'd traveled too far, if there was still a way home.

Educated is an account of the struggle for self-invention. It is a tale of fierce family loyalty and of the grief that comes with severing the closest of ties. With the acute insight that distinguishes all great writers, Westover has crafted a universal coming-of-age story that gets to the heart of what an education is and what it offers: the perspective to see one's life through new eyes and the will to change it.

We'll Paint The Octopus Read (by Stephanie Stuve-Bodeen)

There are a lot of emotions when a family is having a new baby. Emma isn't sure she wants to share her parents with her new baby brother, but after thinking up all the things they could do together her heart softens and she is excited. When Isaac is born Emma's dad tells her the sad news that the baby has Down's Syndrome. It's a touching story that would help any child dealing with the surprise that a sibling or relative or friend's child has been born with Down's Syndrome.