Family Rituals
Families often to get stuck in the idea that rituals have to be stayed and formal. There is a disconnect between spirituality and fun. Nothing could be further than the truth!
Last night, I had the pleasure of partaking of the most solemn and serious of rituals: Hockey Night. This ritual gathering of thousands of hockey fans to celebrate this quick, non-stop and serious sport, included my Family Coven and a rare appearance by my sister - Yannu.
The event opened with Yellow Jacketed college men singing "Oh Canada" and "The National Anthem." Their harmonies built the anticipation of this great battle, bringing the crowd to a frenzy.
Within the first period, the sacred drama depicting the struggle between the aging winter (a Calgary Flames linemen) and the sprite Spring (The Atlanta Thrashers Lineman) battling each other for supremacy was given. Of course, Spring over came and winter is coming to an end (sadly enough, because this means hockey itself will end on April 5th).
Through out the 1st and 2nd periods, it seemed that the Atlanta Thrashers might be beaten in their own house, even though Calgary hadn't made an appearance in Atlanta since 2002.
It was not lost on those in attendance, that the Flames were actually returning prodigal sons, who had left Atlanta and made their way to the great North to seek their fortune. I was a small child when I had last watched red and white jerseys streaking across the ice in the now destroyed Omni battle arena. I can remember my family's sorrow when the red and white packed it up and left us, stranded in a southern city without the cool breeze of an ice battle to enjoy.
Now The Flames were returning to prove that Atlanta was not worthy of them or of hockey. Only the brave Thrashers stood defending that truth. Southerners deserve, want and need hockey. The Thrashers were going to prove this with the might of their blades, the power of their checks and slashing of their sticks!
During the game, a green cladThrash beat upon his Irish Drum rallying the crowd when we let the energy wane and the possibility of loss over come our souls. Between periods we hunted for cakes and ales to sustain our screaming bodies, eating water and cotton candy (only blueberry in Blueland will do!). We feasted on hot pretzels, hotdogs (Yannu), Cracker Jacks (Stone) and ice cream (Tree Bear).
We went through the sacred shops scouring the isles for mementos that showed the sigil of our team. My Husband Priest, Stone bought a knit hat with the sacred emblem upon it. My son, Tree Bear came out of the event with a small hockey stick. We screamed until we were all horse.
The last period was filled with resounding battle after resounding battle where finally the issue was put to bed with an empty net goal which brought the hat trick to the great and admired warriorKuvalchuk. Hats showered the ice launched from all over Phillips Arena. The beautifulBlue Crew ice princesses, skated to gather them so that play could continue and the win could be official. For the last minutes of the game, no participant sat and no participant was silent.
The Thrashers had won.
We watched as
Kuvalchuk and Holik were given one of the three sacred Stars for their play and battle. A Calgary player was given a star as well.
Often you know a ritual was good, renewing and affective, by the aftermath. I drove home with Tree Bear in the front seat sleeping peacefully dispite the ice cream, cotton candy, pretzels, soda and popcorn. This morning, I found him cradling his hockey stick.
I feel renewed. My Husband Priest feels renewed. My son feels renewed. We are renewed.
Thank you Thrashers! So Mote It!
Be!!
