I remember my school days, when at the end of the school year we would have a service at the local church and our teachers would keep an eye on us and place all the rowdiest pupils in the front rows. Any misbehaviour would be punished. When we went to church with my family it was the same: you had to sit quietly in your seat and pay attention, dress neatly and be at your best behaviour. Going to church was a boring event, yet stressful because of fear of doing something wrong and having everyone stare at you.
When I started getting into Wicca and performing Wiccan rituals, I had to face these past experiences. Even today, when I have been Wiccan for a larger part of my life than I was Christian, I still remember and confront these past experiences: the gravity of going to church, the kneeling at the altar, the submission to a higher power that might judge you for accidentally farting during service. When one comes from this tradition, how does one move on from it?
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My first rituals were quiet and still. I lived with my parents who did not tolerate deviation from their Christian tradition. They were by no means fundamentalists, in fact they were quite secular. However, they had grown up Christian and knew nothing else. Add to the fact that at this time Finland had just had its share of the satanic panic, so anything deviating from the safety of Christianity and tradition was scary to them.
So I set up small altars that would not draw too much attention, I told them not to disturb me because I wanted to meditate. And so I sat down in my small room, in front of the few ritual objects I owned (a rock, a seashell, a feather, a red candle and some incense) and I performed my rituals sitting there, while visualising myself performing circlecastings, quartercalls, communing with the gods, etc.
My rituals were almost as quiet as my church visits, if not even more so. I had no hymns to sing, not that I could have sung them anyway, and no space to move. When I moved away from home a few years later and got my own apartment, I finally had space to perform rituals and no one to hear me. But breaking out of the quiet shell during ritual was difficult. I had no problem doing so outdoors, but indoors was problematic.
Today I still reflect on this difficulty because it is still present, especially when I do solo rituals. During group work it is easier to speak out loud, to move, but sometimes it feels silly and pointless to do it by myself. At those times I remind myself that I do this for my gods, not for anyone else to see and that usually helps. I have also noticed that the more I do it, the easier it gets. At times in my life when I have had less time to perform ritual, they also tend to be more quiet when I start again.
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| Rituals can be breath-taking and demand silence, like this early morning view that I woke up to last summer. |
But what about playfulness? What does it have to do with ritual? I will get into how I personally approach playfulness in ritual shortly, but let me first make a few notes about playfulness and ritual in general. As a theologian one of my interests of study has been ritual theory. I also study games, and there is a peculiar overlap between ritual theory and game theory regarding playfulness, or what might otherwise be called a ritual mindset.
To phrase it as concisely as I can: In order to enter a ritual or a game, the participant has to be willing to engage with a ritual mindset, a certain playfulness. This entails a willingness to submit to the rules of the game or ritual, as these are governed by other laws than those of the mundane world. When we enter a game we accept the reality of the game and the rules it entails. At the same time we leave behind our mundane selves and commit to a role in the game. When playing chess it really doesn't mater if you are a lawyer of a nurse in real life. For the sake of the game you are equal players. Likewise, when we enter ritual, eg. the Wiccan circle, our mundane lives, social positions and status give way to our roles as participants in a ritual. Once we exit the ritual or game, our lives return to normal.
In order for this process to work, for us to be able to enter the liminal space of ritual, the world between worlds, we need a certain kind of playfulness. We need to accept that the ritual reality is needed. To achieve this we might use certain symbols to trigger this response: we decorate an altar with special tools, we light candles and incense to set the mood, we wear jewellery specifically dedicated for ritual use. We set the mood, and we set our minds. And through this, we are able to experience ritual in a completely different way than without preparation.
I have sometimes wondered if this preparation is what has made Wiccan rituals so powerful for me? Compared to those church-visits where everything seemed boring and non-engaging, would they have felt different if we had prepared for them? I remember my confirmation: There was preparation, there was the wearing of robes and memorising of verses. I looked forward to it, but I still felt like I was being watched and judged. Maybe I could blame our church leaders? I'm not sure.
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Rituals can also function as doorways
to other worlds and new perspectives on
life, philosophy and other things. |
I said I was going to talk about how I approach playfulness in ritual. In the beginning when I could have ritual without the fear of parents walking in on me, I had to force myself to not make my rituals less "grave", like the church services I was used to. It took some time to come out of my shell, and it was always easier to do outdoors.
Ten years ago I got together with some other Wiccan friends. None of us had really performed ritual together with others before, at least not in a group. All of us came from similar backgrounds so we had some quite extensive discussions on ritual and how we wanted it to feel. This was extremely valuable to me, as I learned that it was no big deal if one stumbles a little on the words, or if mead is spilled on oneself while drinking. Or that laughter is a wonderful addition to ritual.
Since then I have tried to keep these things in mind and to not bee too serious in ritual. I mean, of course rituals are serious business, but that does not rule out that they can be fun. In fact, they should be. In the words of Doreen Valiente:
"Let there be reverance and mirth within you."
Those words are from the Charge of the Goddess and they ring true for everyday practice as well as for ritual.
~Stella
PS: A really interesting and fun way that I have found for dealing with my past church-experiences within Wiccan ritual, is to sometimes chant or intonate (in Swedish: mässa) certain parts of ritual. If you haven't tried it you should. It feels super ritualistic and works well. And it can lend a special feel to group rituals.
