A Ritual to Honor this Transition
A few weeks ago I was listening to a podcast episode from one of my favorites- Elise Loehnen. She hosts a podcast called Pulling the Thread which leans very “woo,” just like me.
In the episode she interviewed Bruce Feiler, who just published a book about designing rituals. They talked about our culture’s tendency to celebrate or mark the big events- birthdays, weddings, graduations, even deaths. But there are so many other events in our lives that don’t get marked in any real way: divorces, a major illness, miscarriage, adoption, becoming a stepparent.
What I think we know in our bones is that it hasn’t always been this way. Historically, and even in other cultures today, ritual is happening all the time. People gather to mark all sorts of occasions.
In the podcast episode, Bruce walked Elise through an exercise of designing a ritual around an upcoming health journey (isn’t there a better word for that?) she is about to move through.
I loved this idea.
As I wrote in a recent post, Ryan and I celebrated our retirement with a few parties. Family came into town to mark the occasion with us. It was big, it was lovely.
It was connective.
But what I also wrote about is the fear that descended in the middle of the night after all the celebrating was done. The truth about this transition we are undertaking is that there are beautiful things about it and there are really really hard things about it.
We are gaining freedom from work, but we are also leaving people we love. We can now venture out to explore beautiful new places, but we are leaving a really beautiful place too.
Paradox! Gotta love it.
So. Inspired by Elise and the ritual she created, I decided to create a ritual of my own to honor this retirement/leaving Charlotte transition.
Fern Trail at Crowder’s Mountain.
There’s a hiking area just south of Charlotte that I’ve been visiting for over 20 years. Crowder’s Mountain has several trails, lots of sweeping views from the top, and a quiet presence that I’ve always loved.
I wouldn’t have called it this before now, but a hike at Crowder’s has always felt a bit like a ritual to me. I’ve often gone there, journal in hand, to mark important events in my own life- a break up, a big decision, the disappointment of not getting into my first choice grad school, a hard day of being a new stepmom.
I knew that if I had a question or worry, I could walk into the forest at Crowder’s and come out a few hours later at least feeling more calm. Though the trail has changed over the years, there are still landmarks that I know by heart- the tree that looks like a praying mantis, the big boulder that is so fun to climb, the perilous path the trail takes at the top over the single track line-up of rocks.
It has been the ultimate refuge.
It was a no brainer. My ritual had to take place at Crowder’s. When I went, the goal wasn’t my favorite 6 mile hike up to King’s Pinnacle, or the shorter, steeper 4-miler. Beyond bringing my journal, I wasn’t even really sure what I was going to “do” to mark the occasion.
I let my feet guide me.
They took me on a trail I rarely take but love- it’s flat and covered in soft pine needles. It winds through thick trees and undergrowth, so you often can’t see around the corner. It was so quiet- hot enough and late enough in the morning that not even that many birds were singing.
I found a place to sit, and I wrote. I cried a little, I touched trees and said thank you. At the base of one, I created a heart out of fallen bark- and then I walked out of those woods.
To be honest, this retelling feels a bit melodramatic. But it’s true too. And maybe that slight feeling of cringe comes from the fact that we have largely divorced ourselves from these practices that make us human.
So I’m deciding to lean in. Honoring the place that has given me so much over the years makes me want to integrate even more ritual into my life.
I’d love to hear your ideas for ritual, or how you honor transitions in your own life. Leave a comment below or send me an email. I really appreciate you being here.