Ritual
Raven’s Ritual
Silence is a ritual
It can be easy to forget how important it is to take a moment for yourself during a busy and exhausting day. Rest is not only important — it’s a spiritual discipline that has become a ritual for me.
Three months before the Covid-19 pandemic, I injured my back and have been home, mostly by myself, ever since. It has been a time of boredom and a feeling of a lack of productivity that nearly drove me insane. My masculinity, toxic and filled with lies about me, waged a war of guilt and shame. It was excruciating. I believed that I was an essential, productive member of society. Then the world started tossing about phrases like “essential worker” and “unnecessary personnel.” I was now disabled and could not work, but I felt like that lumpy ball of oatmeal left at the bottom of the pan that no one wanted.
Then due to exhaustion, spiritual crisis, and perhaps a near-psychotic episode brought on by lies and toxic beliefs, I began my ritual of quiet accidentally. I did not set out to recalibrate myself another force was at work.
A raven started visiting me. It sat atop the telephone pole and cawed at me, noisily and invasive. “Stupid bird. Can’t you see that I am having a crisis that will be sure to send me to an asylum?”
“Caw, caw, caw!” the raven answered.
Then, nearly every day it came back and screamed at me. I was somewhat irritated with the visits but eventually, I wanted to see if the raven would come to say hello to me. Then It stopped coming. The evil little bastard got me liking him. Now he left.
One morning I heard the sound of a hundred ravens carrying on. An injured raven was being hunted by two alley cats. The Aves Avengers assembled and having surrounded the cats on both land and air, those cats had no choice but retreat. Every raven for miles came to assist!. It was quite an amazing thing to watch.
The next day I noticed that I had an ear for ravens. It could hear them in the redwoods, on roofs, and on power lines.
My ritual started by listening for the ravens but now I was hearing bluebirds and doves. Then dogs and cats, and the wind.
The wind became my friend as I listened to its whistling whispering. It was a raven’s call. It was the breath of the gods, the Voice of the Universe. My ritual of silence was born.
I have learned to sit quietly and listen and hear.
When I sit quietly, listening to the sounds around me, I cultivate an awareness of my surroundings it helps me better understand the world around me and improve my ability to focus on what matters most in my life.
Rituals like this can help us remember that there is more to life than just getting through each day as quickly as possible: there are moments where we can slow down and enjoy ourselves, too! Slowing down brings me focus. I can see my intentions as well as my ill intentions so that I can govern myself and be the person I am, not just who I think I should be.
Havi, the name I gave to the raven still comes to see me. It is always a reminder that the raven is calling me to the wind.
