02 Apr The Ritual

A familiar word that is “ritual”. It evokes some sort of routine, pattern, or action that has become firmly embedded in the fabric of our everyday life.

Only recently have I realized one more important thing about “ritual”. The ritual, unlike just any other random permanent element of our schedule, tends to denote an activity performed in a state of concentration. In perfect conditions, the state of concentration will also be filled with affection. A ritual embraced in this way is like a magnet: it attracts us to such an extent that we are unlikely to drop it. It enriches our life and even those who are around us cannot remain indifferent to it, for some reason. It is a memorable thing, with a life of its own, imprinted in minds and hearts.

My second-to-last student flat was not a cosy harbor. Hideous yellow and uneven coat of paint in the kitchen and a minuscule bathroom. The quality of interaction with my roommates was also substandard. One of them not only did not clean after herself (the kitchen was pretty sticky as a result) but also, to make the matter worse, she had an untrained kitten who did his business all over the place. The place was stinky. Living there was hard.

I do have a few fond memories from that flat, though.

One of the roommates, Edwige, had a wonderful sense of humor and the ugly place often resounded with her earnest laughter.

My room was easy to furnish and the radiators kept it wonderfully warm.

We were just 5 minutes away from an epic fruit and vegetable store.

Moreover, Saturday nights were extraordinary, ritualesque. It was then that I pulled out my winter boots, two or three pairs, along with the shoe polish in respective hues, complete with cloths and brushes. I started off with some water to get rid of any dirt, and I followed up with shoe paste and vigorous polishing. To me, it was an ordinary thing to do, a routine I had learnt back at home.

As I was busy taking care of the boots, the problematic roommate would come out of her room. Otherwise, she only left the room when she needed to go to the bathroom or when the internet connection was down.  She was kind of wild and spent an insane amount on time on social media. Yet, there she was, staring at the shoe polish, the boots, the cloths and the brushes and she admitted, somewhat embarrassed, that she found the ritual enjoyable to watch and she loved the smell of shoe polish. If I recall correctly, the whole thing reminded her of her father or grandfather. She was impressed seeing how concentrated I was on the boots, how carefully I handled their weekly spa session, how careful I was with these objects of everyday use. My roommate’s black eyes shone as they followed the shoe show.

The power of ritual right there. There is power in our deliberate donation of time and attention. It allows others to stop for a moment and watch. This is how many businesses operate too, I realize. I’m referring to those candy and chocolate manufactures whose owners make them open to visitors and the audience can behold the procedure of creating something beautiful and sweet out of shapeless matter.

It is a good thing that I remember the boot and shoe polish sessions. I usually do many things quickly without giving them much thought and such secular rituals that absorb me are rare indeed. Why not change that? It is always a good idea to “stand and stare” (William Henry Davies) to cherish the moment and devote oneself to a single manual activity and let oneself be completely immersed in it, with loving attention.