‘ ” ” ” ” ” ” ‘‘ ‘‘ ” ” ” ‘A ritual is a customarily repeated series of acts. A couple of days ago, while leafing through The Daily Writer, I read about the rituals of writing. The piece didn’t speak to me; but, the idea of “ritual” stuck.
The LA Times crossword puzzle is a ritual, an act, repeated every morning. Little, if anything, disrupts morning coffee and the crossword puzzle. Repeated acts have come and gone; but, morning coffee and the LA Times crossword are ritual.
Laundry on Monday is a ritual, as is changing the sheets on my bed.
I walk Robbie every day, rain or shine. Ritual.
Bridge nearly became a ritual. I realized it was eating my life. Bridge is not a ritual
Cleaning house is not a ritual. I wish it were; but, it’s not.
Ironing is not a ritual. Dress shirts go to the laundry. I iron sport shirts and T-shirts. Recently, however, I got behind. So, I took a stack of twenty or so sport and T-shits to the laundry to be pressed only. It cost $83.00. That definitely will not become a ritual.
As I walked toward my motel on Colorado Boulevard last Monday, I passed a laundry/dry cleaner. A man parked his car right in front and walked into the shop. I was impressed that the only customer in the shop found a parking place on a busy Pasadena street in front of the business he wanted to patronize. Is this a repeated act, I wondered.
I’m working on making writing a ritual—an act I do everyday. Anne Lamott says “put your butt in the chair and write.” Some rituals begin with finding a parking place.