“The most dangerous phrase in the language is 'we've always done it this way’.”
-Grace Hopper
Stop looking backwards. We’re not going that way.
But the past has wisdom for us, wisdom in what doesn’t work, and what does. There is power in this knowledge, and in ritual. I’ve intentionally distinguished ritual from tradition in this way through the shedding of customs, and the preservation of what’s sacred.
I’m drawn towards talking about this idea of tradition vs. ritual during the holiday season. One could argue that they are the same, and they can be when either consciously or unconsciously used that way. However, I’ve never heard someone say “I have this ritual of holding onto gender roles and dynamics within the doctrine of my religion that may or may not have moral implications relevant to the contemporary paradigm.”
Instead, it usually goes something like “I have this ritual of starting a pot of coffee, turning on my tablet, and enjoying the words of my favorite writer every Sunday with a bagel and glass of orange juice.”
Those familiar habits that can introduce us to something new, they orient us.
Let’s begin with their definitions.
Tradition is a custom, a doctrine. Authority is imposed. No questions asked, this is how we do it.
Ritual is a tradition, but with intention, examination and attention to detail. We examine why we’re doing what we’re doing, and hope to have a desired outcome emerge from the habit. Ritual is empowering. It doesn’t ask us to bow down to an old, outdated, unknown authority. Ritual puts you in the power seat. It preserves the original meaning of the custom, whereas tradition is an easy way to manipulate the truth in such a way that its roots are forgotten.
Tradition is circumstance born out of an ideology. Ritual is conscious action. It’s not immune to dogma, but less susceptible.
Every year in America, we prepare a meal on the fourth Thursday in November. It’s the same meal every time with slight modifications, and with the same people we hope are still with us. If we were to stay true to its tradition, it would accompany deadly conflict with neighbors (natives), their disease, and their exploitation. Now, it is a ritual. Now we hope to fortify the progress we’ve made throughout the years and not make the same mistakes again. Now we give thanks for the harvest of our efforts. Now we enjoy a meal with intention, a break from being dragged through another laborious week on the marketplace planet where we are too busy to acknowledge existence beyond the grind and beyond survival.
Every year we erect a tree meant for indoors. We spend hours adorning it with artifacts from the past, the same exact ones ever year, along with new ones we’ve acquired throughout time. We do this alone, or with loved ones. We do it in the darkest, coldest time of the year. The evergreen tree holds the life, the light, until it returns, and with it, everything that matters to us.1
Many of us are here to undo the damage of our predecessors, to introduce new ways of living, new value systems that are wholistic, to confront the corruption and the deeds of those before us, and to heal the trauma left behind by the ones causing it. This is a lot of work. This is what many people from older generations make fun of us for, when really we are dealing with the left over baggage of what they refused to look at.
I invite you to do what you always do this year, and into the next, except with unadulterated purpose. Remember why you’re doing it in the first place. Can’t find a reason? Consider learning the art of intention. This is the birthplace of ritual and what guides the magic it instills.
What are some rituals that you like to practice? Let me know in the comments.
I’ll have you know that this is one of my favorite rituals. I know for a fact that if I were an old world pagan in the dead of winter, I’d indulge in too much fermented berry juice, wander out into the woods, cut down my favorite tree and decorate it with a bunch of random absurdities. I’d look at it, laugh, and make it a point to do it every winter. Sometimes I think that’s how the pagan ritual began. Just know that was me in a past life 😉
Good way to differentiate the two. I don't think Christmas trees originated as a pagan tradition, though I could be wrong. Didn't they become the "tradition" with Queen Victoria, after her husband introduced the idea from his native Germany? Pagans would be more likely to leave the tree standing, possibly decorate it and dance around it. The evergreen tree would symbolize the idea (to me, at least) that though everything seems dead in the middle of winter, it's an illusion. Life is still there, waiting to erupt boisterously with the spring.
Thanks for such a thought provoking and empowering post, and especially for drawing that distinction between tradition and ritual. You asked readers to share our own rituals in the comments.
Considering what in my life qualifies as “ritual” drove me to realize that the countercultures united around electronic music and dance have essentially created our own contemporary rituals.
Those rituals build on earlier traditions, like those of Sufi mystical dancers. When I visited my native country in 2007 to investigate the US role in enabling a dictatorship there, I discovered a weekly gathering that has happened every Wednesday for 2000 years that revealed striking resemblances to gatherings I’ve joined in the desert, or helped organize in any number of cities.
I recall at the time feeling elated, and your writing helps me put my finger on why: while our contemporary rituals have offered dancers and DJs no end of inspiration, discovering a tradition in which they were rooted (across time and culture, no less) felt like a realization of something essential in the human experience transcending our own particular settings.