A Drive Thru Living

Typically, this is the season of gatherings: baby showers, bridal showers, weddings, dance and music recitals, play-off games, graduations, wedding anniversaries, family reunions, baccalaureate addresses, and transitions from one grade to the next. And here we are, missing all of it. Missing each other in our new socially different way. It is strange, lonely, quieter and somewhat empty. As much as we try to create a sense of community and connection through our masks and gloves and hand-sanitized hands, it is all strained and different.

We are resilient and creative. I have been lucky to see so many new ways of connecting and being together that have been real and heartwarming, but not the same. What makes us human is our collective experience. We actually need touch, community, human connection and a sense of belonging in order to survive. We need these connections to feed our souls. With so many events cancelled or changed or shortened or now in a new format is tricky. My son’s high school graduation was this weekend, and as a “drive -thru” event, we are missing the time to ponder, wonder and celebrate.

I am a busy person who needs time to sit quietly and process the transition of anything but has a hard time carving out the time to do so. I realized this weekend that I rely on ceremonies to be in the space of watching both my emotions and the ceremony that takes place on stage or at the alter or on the field or in the experience. I use the time as an audience member to think through and observe what is happening around me. It gives me a chance to connect and relate and better understand the gravity and importance of the life event. Sharing the experience afterwards with others is essential for me. It is unifying.

So how do we reframe and make meaning out of these new experiences? Is a ceremony really necessary to add significance to an event, or have we just become accustomed to doing things in particular ways? I think for me having rituals and ceremonies provides the much-needed time and space for the experience of taking it all in, reflecting, and commemorating the occasion. That being said, I’ve managed to find other ways to do some of this. It’s not the same, and something feels like it’s missing, perhaps simply because I’m used to doing it in a specific way and I’ve become attached to that way. I’ve found that even though it feels like something is missing, all is not lost.

Having the predictable ceremony, the ritual is important to us emotionally. Generations of families, generations of graduating classes, generations of brides and grooms, generations of expectant parents have all done things a certain way, and we rely on this. Through this pandemic we’ve been forced to do things differently and to really reflect on what it all means. Is the graduation from high school really less a milestone simply because the class couldn’t gather together, hear the valedictorian’s speech and throw their hats in the air? Is the coming of a baby less glorious because the mother’s friends couldn’t drink mimosas and watch her open gifts of adorable baby clothes and toys? Is it about the event, or is it about the ritual surrounding the event? Perhaps the silver lining here is we are being forced to value the event itself more than the ritual we’ve created and decided is more important.

Still, the loss of these ceremonies and rituals is real. Our emotions are embedded in these rituals and we’ve spent lifetimes waiting for them. So we grieve, but perhaps learn something in the process. I hope we can all take solace in the notion that we truly are “all in this together.”