On ritual and rembetiko
it wouldn't be Greek Easter without it
I’d like to tap into the positive energy that’s out there. Is that the true purpose of a ritual? Is it a tool to make a change, expand your consciousness?
“It’s like spring happened all at once,” says my spouse Janyce, taking a sip of her cup of coffee. It’s early Saturday morning and I’m sitting beside her on the couch looking out the window at the crab apple tree in full bloom.
“So let’s go over the plan again,” I say. “We’ll take the dog with us for a walk, get some flowers at the farm, and stop at the store on the way back for the dandelion greens and lemons.”
“The lamb is ready at noon,” says Janyce.
“We also need mineral water. And wine. Two bottles?” I look over at the table that is set already and frown at the green tablecloth that I didn’t iron. Maybe I can just get that corner quick before breakfast. Janyce walks over to the pantry cabinet in the kitchen and pulls out a jar of crystallized wildflower honey and holds it outstretched toward me from the doorway. “This will work for making the syrup,” she says.
We always feel so optimistic in the morning. Two cups of coffee down, the house filled with the heady smell of lilacs that I cut from our giant bush in the yard, the birds singing. “I’m going to call Jim to see if he wants to come with us,” I say.
Janyce nods her head.
We’ve got a little ritual going lately when it comes to prepping for a holiday. Usually it involves tiring out the dog first with a long hike in the woods. Today my choice is the Upton State Forest, mostly because it’s an excuse to stop at Five Forks Farm for their beautiful flowers. We’ll spend an hour or so out in nature, drive over to the farm stand to grab a bunch of butterfly ranunculus and then Jim will keep the dog calm in the car while Janyce and I race through the grocery store.
“Grab six bunches of dandelions—those look perfect,” says Janyce.
I dump an armful of lemons into the cart. “Oh good, we need all those for the cocktail, and some for the greens.”
Later at the checkout, Janyce lifts a seven-pound boneless leg of lamb onto the conveyor belt. “They screwed up and put aside a six-pound one with the bone in it for us, so I had them find another and I went up a pound,” she says.
On Friday, I drove to the Greek market in West Roxbury to collect cookies, tsoureki, a block of feta, the spanakopita wheels from the freezer, and the olives. We buy the same items every year. I like the ritual of Orthodox Easter. The unwavering food choices, the cut-crystal wine glasses on the table (a family heirloom) and the plucky Rembetika music on the stereo.
I’ve been thinking a lot about rituals lately. I have a friend who talks to me about the “signs” she receives from her spirit leaders. She is seeing them daily, and they are convincing her that she is on the right path in her life. The somatic exercise video that Janyce and I have been working with every night occasionally requires us to perform mini rituals for “letting go” and for “dreaming.” We write out words on paper and watch them burn or tuck them under our pillow at night. And one of my favorite wellness podcasts had an interview recently with a woman who calls herself a spiritual diviner, someone who is able to channel your ancestors and provide personalized rituals for anyone seeking answers to their questions.
I admit, I rolled my eyes a bit on the first listen, googling her on LinkedIn at the same time and reading her long list of UX designer jobs. But I have to marvel at the reframe on this profile. It’s the ultimate mindset shift.
I am a facilitator, spiritual technologist, shamanic practitioner, and initiated medicine woman with 10+ years of experiential design, instruction, workshop development, and individual and group facilitation under her belt.
“Do you want to listen to this podcast with me?” I said to Janyce while we were at the Cape house last week.
“Sure,” she said.
“It’s a bit out there, but I’m sort of drawn to hearing it again. Keep an open mind.”
We drove out to the beach after dinner and sat in the car at the edge of the water while watching the orange sun sink below the clouds at the horizon.
“I don’t think it’s out there at all,” said Janyce when it was over.
Lately, I’ve been noticing the medicine wheel necklace she has been wearing outside of her shirts.
“Even if you don’t believe that it’s really your ancestors on the other side guiding the way, it’s about tapping into the positive energy that’s out there,” she said.
Sometimes I think that everything is simply word choice. Ancestor or universe or energy or spirit or mindset or intuition or creativity. Maybe they are all the same thing. I’d like to tap into the positive energy that’s out there. Is that the true purpose of a ritual? Is it a tool to make a change, expand your consciousness?
I read through the Wild Alive website and tried to get a sense of when Kat offers her divinations and how much she charges to do one. Her two month calendar was full and nothing was planned beyond June. Despite all the food for thought in her writing and speaking, I’m a bit leery of all the marketing tactics in the wellness space. I doubt I will be getting myself a divination. However, I will be participating in the full ritual of another Greek Easter Sunday dinner. With the family. Amidst the flowers and the candles, and all the rituals that make up a day of gathering together at the table. My heart full of joy.