What Makes a Ritual “Successful”?
John Halstead over at Humanistic Paganism has published a rather sharply-worded piece about “10 Signs You’re Half-Assing Your Ritual”. It’s well worth a read, and in general, he’s right: there is a lot of ho-hum ritual out there and many, if not most of us can do a better job of preparing and enacting our rites.
But I think there is something missing in John’s piece, and that is this: a discussion of what we mean by a “successful” ritual.
This is often a moving target. When you talk to someone who has come out of a successful ritual, more often than not what they will talk about is not the activities that took place within it, but about a feeling—and one that is hard to pin down, at that.
But I think that all of those feelings come down to a particular state of mind: one of focus, presence, sensory awareness, creative flow and fervent dedication to the activities at hand. It is what I have previously termed the Ritual State. Many Pagans also refer to it as trance.
Here at Atheopaganism, I’ve written somewhat extensively about the Ritual State (in fact, there is an Atheopagan Ritual Primer that is all about how to provoke and maintain it). I believe it is a particular brain state that is well known to artists and musicians, but may be less familiar to others, in which the prefrontal neocortical Talking/Thinking Brain relinquishes its usual driver’s-seat role in the operation of the brain to the limbic or Feeling/Creating Brain. The Thinking Brain is still present, and may chime in with recognition of metaphors and symbols that contribute to the Ritual State, but it is the Feeling Brain, which remains firmly in the present moment rather than going off into memories or speculations about the future, that is the primary system in charge.
The primary hallmark of a successful ritual is that it succeeds in bringing participants into that fervent, present, awe-inspired creative state, which can be intensely moving and joyful. Each person is different, of course, so some techniques which work for one person may not work for another, but there are approaches to induction of the Ritual State that have worked for most people for thousands of years: repeated rhythms, dancing, chanting or singing, low and flickering light conditions, and beautiful and colorful Focuses or altars, to give a few examples. See the Primer for more details.
Getting into the Ritual State is a learned skill for participants, too. Experienced ritualists are usually able to suspend the internal chatter and critical voice of the Thinking Mind more easily than newcomers to the art. As simple an act as lighting candles on a Focus and saying a brief word of gratitude and devotion can be enough, with practice.
But the key point is that a ritual is an inductive journey: a set of steps designed to bring participants into an experiential state of holy Presence. Succeed in that, work within it, and then ground it out so participants “land” back in an ordinary state of awareness, and your ritual will be a success.
Key ritual facilitation skills such as singing, public speaking, drumming and ritual movement are worth cultivating. They are deeply helpful in ritual leadership, as they can help lead participants along into the Ritual State.
Preparation can make a big difference, and John’s warnings are worth taking seriously. But in experienced hands, even impromptu ritual can be highly successful.
It isn’t just about having a map, and learning it. It’s about knowing where you intend to go in the first place.
A fruitful topic for discussion! (This is Pippa— I changed my wordpress ID bc I started a new blog last weekend). I’ll let this percolate… I haven’t thought about it much, and I’m not sure why. It might be that as a long time poet (since age 8), I’ve spent so much time in that state you speak of that it seems natural and not hard to come by. It’s how I wake up every morning.
So I haven’t put effort into anything elaborate, ritual-wise, bc I can get “there” usually just by deciding to. But my practices are solitary for the most part. I hadn’t considered that maybe others might need more specific elements to benefit— and just bc I can “get there” does not equate to being good at helping others access it.
I guess I’m pretty loose with what I’ve considered a ritual. My core daily ritual is walking, down the same wooded path, sans headphones, connecting with the trees. When I was a kid, I used to spend hours singing songs to trees, a different made up song for each one. I feel very connected to the trees on my path, on an individual basis. I touch them and feel myself, through them, reaching down into the earth. I feel the postures of their trunks and limbs as if they were dancers, in my own body, and a sense of ineffable meaning. I don’t have any order of ritual though. I just go out my door and start walking.
I’m not sure if that’s laziness or if maybe my poet type approach is a different skill from being able to plan a ritual that looks like a ritual?
Hi, Pippa! Yes, I’m a poet as well, and the state of being for writing poetry is very much the “Ritual State” I’m talking about. It sounds like you just don’t need much formal ritualizing in order to arrive in that state. I know it’s harder for others, and that’s where the craft of ritual design and implementation comes in.
Thanks for your comment!