A possible ritual for the future

[ETA: I'm going to tweak this a bit as I think of improvements.]

Elseforum, I was in a conversation about how the-end-of-the-plague might work emotionally for people. We're collectively in a time of serious trauma, not just individually but as a society. There is hope (knock on wood) that sometime next year that might gradually draw to an end. What then?

While we're not very used to it in current Western society, this is kind of what ritual is for. Ritual tends to define a liminal space, between This State and That. There's a reason we talk about "rites of passage" -- major life events are often accompanied by ritual, sometimes formal and sometimes not.

It occurs to me (as a longtime, if currently inactive, ritualist) that next year might be a time for a bespoke, explicit ritual, to acknowledge and internalize the end of the plague. So here's a very brief, very simple, very first-draft thought, for communities that are into that sort of thing. Comments, extensions, rewrites, adaptations welcome.

A more serious ritual could easily be ten times this length (this is just a minute or two each, with most of that time simply being embracing), but this is the core idea: provide an emotional context for coming back together in person, accepting that closeness and touch is now something we can do again, and providing some small amount of catharsis for folks.

The rhythm here is rather Masonic, just because that's the flavor of ritual I know best; different communities of ritual practice will want to adapt the wording and concepts to their own style. Some might want to inject some spirituality, but I've intentionally left this version more humanist.

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Setting

Any space (indoor or out) large enough for everyone. Everyone present should be vaccinated by this point -- this ritual is about acknowledging that reality, and internalizing it. The Masked are on one side of the space, separated six feet from each other; the Community are on the other side, together.

Terminology

Masked: those who have no yet been through the ritual. All should be wearing standard covid masks, of whatever style suits them.

Community: those who have been through the ritual. (Calling this "Community" is potentially controversial, but the point here is to rejoin as a community, physically and in-person, post-covid.)

Candidate: the person actively going through this. Members of the Masked will take turns.

Officiant: the member of the Community actively bringing the Candidate in.

Ritual

Candidate steps forward, towards the center of the space.

Officiant: Who comes here?

Candidate: I am [Name], here to re-enter the community.

Officiant: Do you promise that you are ready?

Candidate: I am shielded (raises vaccinated arm, and points to the injection spot), and believe that I pose no danger.

Officiant: You may unmask.

Candidate removes their mask.

Officiant: Welcome, [Name]. (Embraces Candidate.) Please rejoin the Community, and share our space and air.

Candidate goes to the Community side of the space, and is embraced by each in turn.

Repeat for each member of the Masked, until all have rejoined the Community.

Review: Field and Vine

So -- no shit, there we were, trying to figure out what to do about Thanksgiving, when we can't visit relatives nor attend the enormous dinner with friends that we usually do nowadays. Cooking a full T-day dinner for the two of us is a bit more work than I am usually up for, and Kate (mostly) doesn't cook. But not having a good spread on Thanksgiving would make me sad.

Enter Field and Vine. Kate and I did some hunting around places that would do most of the work for us, and they had the menu that was the best blend of "sounds like Thanksgiving" while still sounding interesting.

tl;dr: wow, that was great.

We picked it up yesterday: a box full of things to put in the oven and on the stovetop, with instructions for each one. Everything except the chicken was just reheating (carefully calibrated so that it could all go into the same 375-degree oven), and even the chicken was already brined, spiced, and sitting on the bed of herbs to cook it on.

We had:

• A half-chicken as the main course. On the one hand, it's just chicken; OTOH, that was really good chicken.
• A smoked confit turkey leg, to satisfy my sense that this was really Thanksgiving.
• Buttery mashed potatoes, with a chive-heavy creme fraiche to mix in at-table.
• Andouille sausage stuffing.
• Buttery-soft roasted carrots, with a brown-butter yogurt sauce and fried sage to put on top.
• Truffle-infused gravy.

Yum. It was a high-end-restaurant-grade meal, for which we only paid about a hundred bucks -- and given that we only ate about half of it (so we're getting another dinner out of it), even a good price. Filled the oven and used a bunch of pots for the reheating, but in the grand scheme of things it was really easy.

(No, we didn't buy dessert. It's the holidays, which means we actually have an excuse for my chocolate-bottomed pecan pie.)

So: big thumbs up to Field and Vine for rescuing Thanksgiving, and I hope they do this again in future years...