Sunday, January 17, 2010

Ceremony

One of the most special things that happened for me over the Christmas holidays was introducing the importance of Ceremony to my kids. I do not have a great ability to remember much of my past but I remember well when I first got my period and my mother wanted to throw a party. I was mortified and managed to convince her that a small dinner would be nice and I begged her not to tell anyone else. I am not sure if my mom tried and did introduce ceremony to me before this but I was definitely not ready yet. She tried again on my 21st birthday and this time I was much more receptive and open and willing to experience. We gathered friends and family of all ages in an intimate setting and even though I do not remember the specifics of the ceremony, I know that this is when I got hooked; this is when the significance of marking transitions really sank it and took root. Since that day I have incorporated Ceremony into many aspects of my life – some private, some public. When I was pregnant with Kahlil, instead of a traditional Baby Shower my friends and family put together a Mother Blessing Ceremony, when both our kids were born we had a Welcoming Ceremony. So whether they wanted to or not my kids have been involved with Ceremony from their inception.

Winter Solstice 2009 arrived like a normal day. While we were making breakfast I talked to Kahlil and Kamala about the significance of this day – the longest night, the shortest day, the time when we honor the dark for its gifts and celebrate the sun and its return. Mom and I had talked about doing something to honor the day but no plans were laid. Then, as we were taking or evening walk (Mom, Dad, me and the kids) I asked Kahlil and Kamala if they were going to create a ceremony to honor the dark and invite in the sun what would they do. Kamala chimed in instantly that we should have food and drinks ( a true Trinidadian!!). Kahlil said we should have candles. Mom suggested reading a poem about the dark. And thus a Ceremony was created.


While I prepared dinner, mom looked for the right poem. Kamala was sitting at the table and found a black piece of paper and started to do one of her favorite things….cut the paper. Mom had done a project with the kids earlier that week of making paper chains to decorate and hand around the house for Christmas. Kamala wanted to make another chain for her to wear around her neck. Dad helped. The paper ended up only making enough to fit on her head – it was a crown, it was all black. I told her she had made the crown of darkness and suggested to get some white paper to make a crown of light. Kahlil jumped in and the crown was created.









After dinner, we lit a candle, lit a piece of charcoal onto which we put incense Carl had harvested from the forest, and we each got a sage leaf. One at a time, we lit our leaf, blew it out and thanked the darkness for something. Then we did it again to say something we loved about the light. It was simple. It was beautiful. It was perfect.





And every subsequent day Kamala asked if we could do another ceremony. So we did – on Christmas night and on New Years Eve. I am grateful for the connection they have formed with this sacred right. I give thanks.


As I write this and see the devastation in Haiti it reminds me that Ceremony is also about the power of prayer. Haiti is in my prayers!