(Re)creating Rituals to Shape our Identity
Questions to ask as you decide who to be moving forward.
Several years ago, I would’ve given you a list of my interests in addition to my MBTI if you asked me to describe myself. If I wanted to go deeper, I would’ve elaborated on my hiatus from the rat race by choosing to go back to school. I would’ve given you various qualities about my personality (introverted, curious, etc…) to paint that picture of who I was as a person.
All of those descriptions would’ve been grounded in various behaviors, whether they be the role I played as a student by going to class every day or the description of a bookworm defined by repeated visits to the library. If they weren’t qualities bolstered by actions, they were roles defined by relationships, which in the end, were also dependent on some form of activity.
Specifically activities that involve being in the same room with people.
I don’t think I have to go too far into this to explain why all of those things are in limbo right now with Covid. Our rituals have changed.
How rituals define our lives and identity
According to Merriam-Webster, a ritual is defined as:
a: ritual observance specifically : a system of rites
b: a ceremonial act or action
c: an act or series of acts regularly repeated in a set precise manner
I’m more or less focusing on the latter definition, but the former is interesting when you consider the annual birthdays and holidays that are carried out remotely on Zoom with less than ideal fanfare. Those “punctuations in life” as a wise friend once described, are the ritual endings and beginnings of new chapters. Without them, we’re forever stalled on that same paragraph that you accidentally read four times over. There’s a reason why this year felt so chronologically flat.
But in between those very punctuations are the day-to-day narratives about who we are based on the things we do repeatedly, both in our self-deprecating moments, and our most triumphant.
Picking up our kids from school is a ritual. (I’m a dedicated parent!)
That morning cup of coffee is a ritual. (I’m a caffeine addict!)
Taking that weekly dance class is a ritual. (I’m an interesting person with a life outside of work!)
All of these signal to us various facets of our identity.
BUT, you say, who you are shouldn’t be defined by these shallow constructs! Aren’t we more than our jobs and hobbies and familial roles?
And yet, maybe they’re not as shallow as we think. We believe we are dependable, creative, logical, or [insert-whatever-description-here] because we show up in various relationships and spaces with those very qualities we claim to have, qualities that matter to us and are often the outcome of our actions. This is known as self-signaling, where what you do reinforces who you think you are.
But what happens when those very activities our rituals rely on are redefined or gone?
Which rituals have you kept/recreated?
Prior to Covid, I would do my weekly grocery runs as a way to unwind and take stock of my needs (literally). I still did my weekly grocery runs during the pandemic this summer, but instead of driving, I found myself walking to the store more frequently. Looking back, that was my way of recreating that sense of unwinding I had before the pandemic when I was allowed to wander through those aisles without worry.
It’s also worth noting the difference between what you continue to do out of convenience and circumstances versus what you actually want to be doing. It would’ve been easier to drive, but because I liked having the time to think to myself while incorporating some kind of physical activity, I chose to walk. This was self-care for me, a basic form of adulting that brought me a sense of responsibility and independence.
Which rituals have you stopped?
Perhaps one of the more eye-opening examinations of our rituals is asking ourselves if we still want them and why. If they are no longer being practiced or they haven’t been redefined, were those rituals enforced by expectations outside of yourself? What were you getting out of them?
I used to purchase a new piece of clothing every month or so. Having been raised with very little and perpetually wearing hand-me-downs while growing up made me self-conscious about my fashion choices. As an adult, I prided myself as someone who had good taste. It never occurred to me how utterly pointless all of this would be as work-from-home took over and I found myself reexamining my spending habits. While I still love fashion because I’m aesthetically inclined, the reality is that I actually didn’t care for it as much as I thought I did.
Especially when there’s no one to judge what I wear.
So was I someone with a good sense of fashion, or was I insecure? Chances are it’s a bit of both, but I have a choice in the matter as to which drives my behavior.
Redefining our identity
What is an extrovert without people? What is a devout believer without Sunday church? What does it mean to have a life of your own without the endless stream of activities that supposedly tell the world and yourself how “interesting” you are?
When rituals have no reason, they are bound to break down.
This year has been one massive spring cleaning where the things that no longer play a significant role in our lives are shuffled out. We’re called to reexamine what actually matters to us, and in turn, redefine who we really are because the rituals connected to our identities have shifted. We’re at the end of the year now.
What do we want to re(create)?
What parts of ourselves do we want to let go?
Who are you?
