I recently received this letter from my pen pal...
Hello, Autumn is in the air here. The evenings are getting darker, the trees are changing colour and some are dropping leaves. The apples and fruit are ripe and ready to pick, the harvest has been gathered. Frost cannot be far off now, the nights are already feeling cold.
Still, the autumn ploughing, which has just started has got it's interests. I have just got back from a cold, wet field nearby, watching it being ploughed and a rather strange local event. A Trashing the Dress party.
This is a very odd sort of celebration. So far as I know it is a tradition particular to the very far north of Scotland. I have never heard of anything similar elsewhere in the UK. The tradition is strong here though and seems to be growing more so. If you look in the windows of local photographers shops you will see the usual wedding, baby and other photos, as well as trashing the dress pictures.
It seems that, once a woman is well and truly married. Once she is sure she will never again need her wedding dress. She has the choice of putting it away in her wardrobe, never to see daylight again unless she can pass it on to her daughter. Assuming she has one. Assuming the dress will fit the girl. Assuming the dress is still fashionable. Assuming the daughter wants to wear it. Or, she can trash it!
This seems to be then a public statement made by a young married woman, but never explicitly expressed, that she is now happily married and will not be seeking another husband. So, she gathers her friends and relatives together as witnesses, as well as a photographer. Then she puts on her wedding dress and goes and does something that will utterly destroy it, so that it is fit for nothing but the 'rag and bone man'.
Today the young lady arrived wearing a lovely, full length gown with a short train. She had a little posy of flowers in her hands an a veil, thrown back over her head to reveal her face and held in place by a simple band. She had a pair of pretty white shoes on, with dainty high heels. Also white stockings, a baby ble garter and a little white thong. I know, because she posed for us with her skirts lifted high. Just for the photographer you understand.
Anyway. The field was being ploughed. It was rough, since the ground had only just been turned. It was also very wet, since it was raining overnight. The tractor pulled up alongside the young lady. The plough had been unhooked. In it's place a heavy, knotted rope had been fixed to the tow hook. The bride picked up the knotted rope and hung on tight as the tractor set off slowly across the muddy field. The young woman had no choice but to follow. In moments she had lost a shoe, stuck in the mud. Moments later she broke the heel off the other shoe, so kicked it off and continued barefoot. Her dress by now was getting very muddy around the skirts whilst the tractor wheels were throwing up mud all over her bodice. Soon her stockings were shredded as she walked through the foot. Finally she staggered, falling to her knees in the plough furrows. The tractor continued it's slow progress though. So, a moment later, she was pulled onter her chest, to be dragged slowly through the sticky soil for some 20ft or so. Finally, she let go of the rope. She struggled to her feet and, amidst loud applause and the flash of camera flashguns, she stumbled to the edge of the field.
An odd ceremony. Great fun to watch though. I couldn't help feeling it was a bit kinky too. There were elements of public humiliation, exhibitionism and messy play in all this.
Or perhaps that is just seeing things from my kinky perspective. Perhaps it is in fact simply an endearing pagan ritual.
Do you have anything similar in nature on the far side of the atlantic? Is this simply a bit of British madness?
Showing posts with label ritual. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ritual. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
The year in Review
Its been a time of adventure, and growth, a time of discovery, reflection and integration. A time of forming new relationships, associations and dreams, while learning to let go of old ones, and surrender to the flow of life beyond our own petty foresight or control.
Focused on Ceremonies and Celebrations in the fall of 2010, I wondered into observing, recognizing and creating Rites of Passage in the Winter. I finished the Spring of 2011 with a closer look at Rituals in a variety of settings and social groups, and the Roles we each play in every day life: parent, child, teacher, student, expert, novice, party dude.... I focused on the Rituals/performance of these Roles and in a variety of venues: parades, creating art, musicianship, professionalism at different kinds of jobs,learning and practicing new skills: relaxation, fire dancing,etc. I ended the year with a focus on the theater to better explore all of these themes in a concentrated environment.
The theater experience was much as described in a previous post. Filled with frustration and head aches as the opening night drew near, then filled with boredom, repetition and ritualistic behaviors in action as it ran its course. In the end, everyone loves everyone, and the memories are built and solidified into the grander definition of shared experience, common ground for future connections. Finally relegated to the past, they are placed carefully away into the trunks in the attic of the mind where nostalgia festers its sentiments.
As usual on this kind of journey, there were tantrums and hurt feelings sometimes, there were quitters and those who pushed through to carry the load. There were romances and extraneous flirtations and "Show Crushes." I was able to thoroughly enjoy mine, and delight in the brilliant sexiness of Tyler delivering the lines of his multiple characters with style and panache. Erin as the sultry cat was a delight as well. The lights, the music, the predictability of when to rush to the side stage to see who perform what...I was able to enjoy this wild ride with a new understanding that I hadn't brought to my theatrical experiences previously.
A show crush for example is Just that. A show crush. A strong sense of attraction brought on by camaraderie and proximity, combined with a spark of attraction, and mutual admiration. Sometimes people act on it, and sometimes they don't. Sometimes they savor it for exactly what it is, a delicious attraction that will remain at later meetings, if left as is. I now see those young teenage obsessions I once indulged, in a whole new light. Thanks Tiger! The theater, the theater. I am so glad to be back in the folds of the theater, with its bizarre freaks and non judgmental people of immense talent, self reflection, and humanity. HONK.
Focused on Ceremonies and Celebrations in the fall of 2010, I wondered into observing, recognizing and creating Rites of Passage in the Winter. I finished the Spring of 2011 with a closer look at Rituals in a variety of settings and social groups, and the Roles we each play in every day life: parent, child, teacher, student, expert, novice, party dude.... I focused on the Rituals/performance of these Roles and in a variety of venues: parades, creating art, musicianship, professionalism at different kinds of jobs,learning and practicing new skills: relaxation, fire dancing,etc. I ended the year with a focus on the theater to better explore all of these themes in a concentrated environment.
The theater experience was much as described in a previous post. Filled with frustration and head aches as the opening night drew near, then filled with boredom, repetition and ritualistic behaviors in action as it ran its course. In the end, everyone loves everyone, and the memories are built and solidified into the grander definition of shared experience, common ground for future connections. Finally relegated to the past, they are placed carefully away into the trunks in the attic of the mind where nostalgia festers its sentiments.
As usual on this kind of journey, there were tantrums and hurt feelings sometimes, there were quitters and those who pushed through to carry the load. There were romances and extraneous flirtations and "Show Crushes." I was able to thoroughly enjoy mine, and delight in the brilliant sexiness of Tyler delivering the lines of his multiple characters with style and panache. Erin as the sultry cat was a delight as well. The lights, the music, the predictability of when to rush to the side stage to see who perform what...I was able to enjoy this wild ride with a new understanding that I hadn't brought to my theatrical experiences previously.
A show crush for example is Just that. A show crush. A strong sense of attraction brought on by camaraderie and proximity, combined with a spark of attraction, and mutual admiration. Sometimes people act on it, and sometimes they don't. Sometimes they savor it for exactly what it is, a delicious attraction that will remain at later meetings, if left as is. I now see those young teenage obsessions I once indulged, in a whole new light. Thanks Tiger! The theater, the theater. I am so glad to be back in the folds of the theater, with its bizarre freaks and non judgmental people of immense talent, self reflection, and humanity. HONK.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Rituals of an Addict
In the 20’s and 30’s there were opium and absinthe dens, where the addicts could while away the hours in fantastical dreams, as their bodies and hygiene were neglected in pursuit of the poppy and the green fairy. While we are not an entire country or culture of heroin addicts, we do like our coffee and cigarettes and alcohol. And, it has been successfully argued that addiction to a person, substance or behavior is an addiction none the less, however socially acceptable. Making coffee is one of my favorite rituals and an important aspect of life for me. I love the filters, the beans and smelling the different roasts. I like to grind my own beans, and dust the grinder out with a special little coffee brush. I used to take a camp stove with me on road trips just so I could make myself a proper cup of coffee at rest areas, and scrimp in other areas of life to afford a really good blend.
I first suspected I might have a problem back in the mid 1990’s, when my then 4 year-old daughter told me about her nightmare involving her, me, a giant coffee cup, a coffee grinder and a Melita. Evidently, I was so focused on the coffee-making process that I didn’t hear her calling for help and she got smaller and smaller, as I focused more and more on mixing in the special raw sugar and just the right amount of half and half...
Fast forward 16 years. My daughter no longer remembers having this dream and is nearly as coffee obsessed as I am these days. Starbucks won’t do - it’s the ”McDonalds” of coffee - but several years of hardship and struggling, and raising a kid has made me willing to cheap-out on particular roasts and forgo a certain amount of quality for quantity. I even substitute soy milk for half and half, now that I am off the dairy drug. But please understand, I am not bragging; it’s not something I am proud of, not in this coffee obsessed culture of the Pacific Northwest; it’s more like a somewhat shame-filled confession. In fact, that was exactly how I approached the POPE of Coffee when I last saw him.
A close friend of mine, an ordained priest, jokingly considers himself the Pope of the Church of Coffee. He was undecided if I could obtain absolution for my lack of devotion to the bean, since that man can be starving to death and still insists on buying a roast that is thirteen dollars a pound. I have watched him parcel out his pennies at the end of the month for cigarettes and organic half and half instead of rice and beans - or peanut butter. I am kind of worried about the sanity of this extreme behavior, but I am also a little bit impressed to see someone with very clear priorities, and total faith in things taking care of themselves. I must admit, somehow it seems to work for him, as someone always shows up and feeds him, myself included.
So how many of us are just enabling and perpetuating the addiction in ourselves and each other with this kind of behavior? Is it an acceptable part of our larger society because we indulge it or do we indulge it because it’s acceptable? And who gets to decide the difference? Its true, I bought and cooked a lot of food for my friend The Pope the last time I saw him, and brought my own substandard coffee to keep from consuming to much of his, although I did covet its succulent flavors when I did indulge in it.
I guess you could say I rank as a novice devotee, since I chose to compromise my own coffee integrity to make ends meet and feed my other habits. Like red wine for instance...; don’t get me started on wine. The special accessories one can indulge in, the exclusive conversations, quests, and elitism... it’s like coffee all over again, and both go great with jazz, another indulgence of mine. Thus I postulate that addiction is addicting at least partly because of its ritualistic nature. Saddle up and choose your poison: smoking, coffee, wine, obsessions, cruelty, compulsions, anxiety, drama, sex, food, elitism, arrogance, self denial, cocaine, marijuana, heroin, meth, LSD, self righteousness, religion, or long winded rants at no one in particular.
I first suspected I might have a problem back in the mid 1990’s, when my then 4 year-old daughter told me about her nightmare involving her, me, a giant coffee cup, a coffee grinder and a Melita. Evidently, I was so focused on the coffee-making process that I didn’t hear her calling for help and she got smaller and smaller, as I focused more and more on mixing in the special raw sugar and just the right amount of half and half...
Fast forward 16 years. My daughter no longer remembers having this dream and is nearly as coffee obsessed as I am these days. Starbucks won’t do - it’s the ”McDonalds” of coffee - but several years of hardship and struggling, and raising a kid has made me willing to cheap-out on particular roasts and forgo a certain amount of quality for quantity. I even substitute soy milk for half and half, now that I am off the dairy drug. But please understand, I am not bragging; it’s not something I am proud of, not in this coffee obsessed culture of the Pacific Northwest; it’s more like a somewhat shame-filled confession. In fact, that was exactly how I approached the POPE of Coffee when I last saw him.
A close friend of mine, an ordained priest, jokingly considers himself the Pope of the Church of Coffee. He was undecided if I could obtain absolution for my lack of devotion to the bean, since that man can be starving to death and still insists on buying a roast that is thirteen dollars a pound. I have watched him parcel out his pennies at the end of the month for cigarettes and organic half and half instead of rice and beans - or peanut butter. I am kind of worried about the sanity of this extreme behavior, but I am also a little bit impressed to see someone with very clear priorities, and total faith in things taking care of themselves. I must admit, somehow it seems to work for him, as someone always shows up and feeds him, myself included.
So how many of us are just enabling and perpetuating the addiction in ourselves and each other with this kind of behavior? Is it an acceptable part of our larger society because we indulge it or do we indulge it because it’s acceptable? And who gets to decide the difference? Its true, I bought and cooked a lot of food for my friend The Pope the last time I saw him, and brought my own substandard coffee to keep from consuming to much of his, although I did covet its succulent flavors when I did indulge in it.
I guess you could say I rank as a novice devotee, since I chose to compromise my own coffee integrity to make ends meet and feed my other habits. Like red wine for instance...; don’t get me started on wine. The special accessories one can indulge in, the exclusive conversations, quests, and elitism... it’s like coffee all over again, and both go great with jazz, another indulgence of mine. Thus I postulate that addiction is addicting at least partly because of its ritualistic nature. Saddle up and choose your poison: smoking, coffee, wine, obsessions, cruelty, compulsions, anxiety, drama, sex, food, elitism, arrogance, self denial, cocaine, marijuana, heroin, meth, LSD, self righteousness, religion, or long winded rants at no one in particular.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)