Ritual - Thoughts on our Intentional Relationship with Objects

Ritual - Thoughts on our Intentional Relationship with Objects

Ritual or The Loss of the Wooden Bowl (June 2015)

 I wrote this short essay in 2015 as a reflection on how we spend the mundane moments in our lives, and whether we chose to surround ourselves with objects that inspire introspection, or objects that encourage speed, inattentiveness, and un-attachment. There is a strong through-line between this exploration and investing and caring for well made garments like wool sweaters.

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Some folk have a fondness for a kind of tree or other plant. I have a teacher in Seattle (who was born in Ohio where they are native) who loves sassafras trees so much she has planted over four in her small urban yard. She loves the three possible kinds of leaves the Sassafras tree can have; she loves the smell of the bark (think root beer); and she loves the reminder of the Ohio woods where she grew up. Likewise, my partner has a special place in his heart for the western red cedar tree. The cedar grows vigorous and yet is delicate. Its wood is very soft to work with, yet is full of hard silica particles.

Our relationships with trees specifically tend to be long lasting and individual. Trees and people have similar lifespans, although some trees live longer than we do. It is possible, and common, for someone to have a particular tree they are fond of. Perhaps the Norway maple at the side of the playground is the ten-year old’s favorite tree. Perhaps the eighty-year old is most fond of the Elm tree next to the post office she has frequented for forty years.

People naturally seek relationship to other living and non-living things in their life. Just as someone may have their favorite tree (living), they also might have their favorite coffee mug (non-living). Yet, as the tree ages and changes with turn of the seasons, a ceramic coffee mug, or a plastic bowl does not change. I think we have such relationships with trees because we see them growing and changing through the year(s), just as we do.

At one point in history our lives were enriched with things crafted from living things. Today in North America, wooden kitchen utensils are limited to the simple wooden stirring spoon, and sometimes a wooden salad bowl and wooden rolling pin, occasionally sets of chopsticks. Our kitchenware commonly comes from mass-production, perhaps from Ikea or other such manufactures. When we use a plastic bowl that is just like all the other plastic bowls to hold the food we consume on a daily basis, what are we saying about how we value our nourishment? We may see this as a necessity because of a question of affording differently, but there are hidden costs we give little attention. Valuing our nourishment is about considering what we can nourish ourselves with, and this is reflected by a variety of factors. When we use the disposable paper cup lined in plastic every morning for that cup of café coffee, how are we choosing to care for the environment and ourselves? If I choose to eat food from a vessel that is valued for its convenience only, how am I being nourished? What if our everyday rituals were beautifully done? Our daily actions best represent our morals. We agree it is hypocrisy to say, “Do as I say and not as I do”. How we choose to engage with the world is no clearer in how we chose to nourish ourselves. This is to say, when we have the choice, if we chose to feed ourselves in an unconscious manner we are encouraging unconscious behavior. This is the same kind of unconscious behavior that drives us to litter instead of throwing trash in the can. The same unconscious behavior that leads us to drive the car out of laziness to the post office instead of taking the ten minute walk.

 

There are activities we do every day, including consuming food, which are ritualistic. Some people eat the same thing every morning: perhaps oatmeal, eggs, or rice. We can choose to conduct these rituals with care and thoughtfulness, or not. When we engage in thoughtful rituals, that thoughtfulness flows into what else we are doing in our lives. For example, say we work designing urban parks. If we rush through our regular routines in a thoughtless and unconscious manner, inevitably that thoughtlessness will influence our quality of work.

 

Thoughtful attentiveness is not the dominating paradigm of mainstream society today. This is not how we begin life. As babies and even as children, we must be attentive to what is going on around us because that is how we learn. When babies are first learning about the world, the tactile world is their first exposure. It is the tactile world that enriches their experience, and teaches them about what is what. We lose this as we grow up, but we can return to the tactile sensation to remind us to be attentive, thoughtful, and conscious in our actions. One of the best ways I have found to do this is to design my daily rituals around the tactile.

 

Wood grows and forms as a tree, and then continues to grow and age with human use. There is a unique feeling in a wooden bowl. Wood is forgiving – it is warm to the touch, easily adapting to skin temperature. Just like a cast-iron pan, it seasons with use. Perhaps I feel familiar with a wooden bowl because wood develops grain lines just as we develop wrinkle lines.

What would the world look like if everyone ate from one handcrafted bowl?

If the care we take in how we lead our lives extended to how we hold our food, perhaps that care would inspire more thoughtful use of the natural resources? Perhaps it would inspire us to consider more deeply before we act, build, buy, or tear apart.

If we wish to lead more fulfilling lives, I propose a very simple solution. This solution can take place three times a day, every day, for the rest of your life. Perhaps, as only an experiment, if we tried eating and serving our food with grace, thoughtfulness and consideration, we would find that we created better living for us and the landscape around us.