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