On Being A Ritual Slut

Considering Tharp’s words and looking back on my writing experience, I discovered that I’ve had a floozy relationship with rituals. My count continues to increase, but I can’t seem to stay married to just one.

After class discussion, I think the art of rituals depends on the environment you create and the mindset that affects.

Environment isn’t necessarily “created” but something you insert yourself into: a location that is conducive to constructing creative content. My first time with the college writing experience, I gave myself to Espresso Royale. A coffee shop offers the picture-perfect scene, but is logistically a nightmare: machines making noises, people making noises, and where the hell are the outlets? I moved on. Next, I made an attempt with the League. The more ignored version of the Union seemed to be love at first write with its old architecture and infrequent foot traffic. However, that flame was soon squashed by the intense effort it required to walk across campus. After several more flings, I notice I was trying to combine the environment and mindset factors as one; however, I needed a strikingly practical environment in order to achieve the creative mindset I was looking for. Thus, nowadays I prefer to study at Aikens Commons. Conveniently placed across the street from my house, plenty of outlets, and a “white noise” environment where everybody else is working. Once I got past all the distractions, I could work on the creation.

Although I found love with a certain environment, I still struggle to devote myself to a ritual that inspires me to be creative. I’ve thought a lot about what Thorpe mentioned about the taxi cab before the gym. As I mentioned, minor distractions are the bane of my creative experience. Cue my newfound fleeting relationship with rituals. I tried not looking at my phone for the first two hours of the morning. I attempted to stay away from social media. I flirted with reading the news with every cup of coffee. I made a pass at playing a game of sudoku when I woke up. I pursued several different avenues of inspiring introspection, critical thinking, and cosmic thinking, but have not found the one. I always end them.

 

I think rituals need to become a habit. Which just makes me consider, why is it I can stay committed to something as unproductive and annoying as biting my nails, but I frolic between activities that would actually make me a better person?

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