Stand up. Turn around. Pick up rain jacket that is draped over back of chair. Put one arm through the appropriate armhole. Put other arm through the remaining armhole. Adjust hood that is stuck under backpack.
As I performed this action, as I have done countless times over the course of my two and a half years attending school in a rainy climate, I looked around the classroom and saw the majority of my classmates participating in this same routine. Or is it ritual? Ritual seems to suggest a ceremonial specialness — this mundane action that when written out could pass as step-by-step directions on how to put on a raincoat doesn’t appear to have any ceremonial aspects. But routine seems to suggest completing an action without any thought, and I was certainly pondering the very meaning of putting on my rain jacket. So which one is it?
Well, one definition of ritual is indeed “the established form for a ceremony.” But another definition reads, “An act or series of acts done in a particular situation and in the same way each time.” I certainly put on my jacket only when it’s raining or when there’s a chance of drops falling from the sky. As described above, this action is completed without any variation. I suppose I could put my left arm in first instead of my right arm, but the chance of this happening is slim. So therefore, putting on my rain jacket is a ritual?
Yet, putting on my jacket can also be reasonably considered a routine — a habitual or mechanical performance of an established procedure. I may be in a seriously reflective mood today, but most of the time I just put my jacket on without giving the series of actions a second thought. So it’s also a routine? No. There seems to be more to it than that. Routines have a boring connotation. I don’t want to think of an action I perform multiple times a day as boring.
Seeing as the situation fits both definitions, I am going to assert that putting on my rain jacket is a ritual. In a way, there is an element of specialness present. Where I go to school is definitely not the only place where it rains, but rain does distinguish it from other places where there is a lack of precipitation. Where I’m originally from, rain jackets aren’t a staple item of clothing. I didn’t even own a rain jacket until I traveled approximately 827 miles north. Students don’t put on their rain jackets before exiting the classroom like we do here. This ritual bonds my fellow classmates and me to the rest of rain-jacket-put-on-ers. We may not be a select few, but there are only so many of us.
If you’re worried I’m getting a big head, another definition of ritual is “done in accordance with social custom or normal protocol.” Among students at my school, rain jackets seem to be significantly preferred over umbrellas. So my whole specialness argument is unraveled by this one definition — we’re just doing what everyone else does. But I like to think there’s still uniqueness present.
Now, you may be wondering, what’s the point of this whole thought process? Why does it matter if putting on a rain jacket is considered a ritual or a routine? Why does this simple action seem to hold so much importance?
There is nothing innately special about putting on a rain jacket. The action itself is not important at all (unless it’s raining outside and you don’t want to get wet). The point of the thought process is the actual thoughts themselves. How I think shapes how I view the world, and I like to see the world as a significant place imbued with meaning. I like to see good in every day even when every day as a whole is not good. I like having a heightened sense of awareness. I like challenging my thoughts. I like reflecting. I don’t want to go through the world mindlessly — within reason of course. Being aware of every time I blink would be really annoying.
Significance is everywhere. Sometimes it’s good to remember that we are small compared to the infinite depths of space, that we are tiny specks on a rock that revolves around a ball of fire in a galaxy filled with thousands upon thousands of other stars. Other times it’s good to remember that we do matter, and what may seem unimportant actually holds at least a little bit of meaning. It’s all in the way we think.
