Routine vs. Ritual

This is the feast of a hundred take-out containers, otherwise known as our friend's Chinese New Year party. 2010 is the Year of the Tiger, a year predicted (by who? the stars? the tigers?) to be full of change and upheaval. That doesn't mean we had to go and mess with tradition straight out of the gate. Instead, we did what we always do: pick up a little take out from the Thai/Vietnamese/Chinese restaurant of our choice and head on over for some serious snacking, imbibing and firework displays.

I know I've missed a couple of these parties over the years, but compared to all the other traditions in my life, this is probably the most consistent. Christmas varies wildly from year to year depending on where I am. Thanksgiving suffers from the same randomness. Today's Valentine's Day but I honestly don't give a flying fuck. What else is there? Sean used to cook breakfast for a large gathering of friends every year on his birthday, until he realized how much work this was. Then he switched to watching movies in the backyard but that tradition's been thrown off course too. We never celebrate anniversaries, solstices, St. Patrick's Day or any of the days of the lord (or any other deities for that matter).

My father used to insist that we all NEED traditions either ones that are handed down or ones we create ourselves. He thought regular celebration was an important way to mark time and take note of our lives. In many ways, this makes sense to me and yet anytime I participate in a tradition part of me feels a little odd. There's no way to remove the inherent sense of obligation. Even in the most benign, most loving celebrations, I'm aware of the coercion as much as the comfort.

Maybe this is a result of being forced to go to church for much of my youth. Or it could be a lingering remnant of my teenage personae that reveled in opposition. Maybe I just want to believe that small daily celebrations can be enough. Every morning, Sean makes breakfast while I make coffee. Almost every day I walk within the 10 square blocks surrounding my house to go to the library, the bank, the grocery store (for a loaf of bread, a container of milk and a stick of butter). We regularly take time to confuse the cat and then, at night, we sit on the couch and eat dinner. These are routines, but to me they're as beautiful as any ritual.