The first thing Beth E. does when she gets up in the morning is open the curtains and see what the day looks like. Everyday, it's the same view out her bedroom window but the scene is never quite the same. In October, the neighbor's tree usually turns gold first. In late February, she looks for the green shoots of the early crocuses. Beth goes through the house, opening the kid's shades too as she gently wakes them. And in the evening, earlier in winter, she goes through the house again, closing the curtains, like putting a blanket on over her family.

Some days Beth is annoyed at the repetition. “It's one more thing to do,” she thinks to herself. But she does it. It has become a personal ritual for beginning and ending the day.

We all have little rituals like Beth. Some only we are aware of such as the silent prayer we say as our kids run up the steps to school. Others are so much a part of our everyday lives, we hardly notice we do them such as the way we greet our children when they wake up in the morning. Then there are the big rituals around the holidays. These we usually refer to as traditions, meaning they are annual events rather than daily rituals.

Traditions and rituals are part of the threads that connect us to one another. By repeating them over and over, they become part of our personal history. They become part of our collective mythology. They make us feel secure. And they make us feel part of something that includes us and at the same time is much bigger than any one person. To mess with a family tradition can be very upsetting- to adults as well as kids. Even outdated, silly things we do are still part of our heritage and we are very possessive of what is ours.

When I was a kid, on Christmas morning, we would all line up on the stairs and go down together. When I returned one year after I had been an adult for a long time, my three siblings and I still insisted on “calling” our place on the stairs and giggled like little kids. We felt silly but it was the right thing for us to do. Now we have one more family picture of the kids on the stairs. The memory inspires us to create new traditions with our own families.

A couple of years ago, I wanted to bring more of the sacred into my daily life. I was afraid to because my husband was not comfortable with any form of prayer. In those days, he usually worked nights, so I had dinner with my three kids. One evening, I started a new ritual. I asked them to say a blessing. The oldest did a simple blessing at his preschool before lunch so we started with his words. Over the years, we've added lines and subtracted lines. Now we all (including my husband,who got used to it) say the same blessing along with hand gestures every night,

“Blessings on the sun,
Blessings on the earth,
Blessings on our meal.
Blessings on those we love near and far
And blessings on our family.”

My kids won't start dinner without the blessing. Another family we know does thanksfuls along with a prayer. They ask everybody to say one or two things they are thankful for. In the movie, “The Story of Us” they do “high-low” at the dinner table. Each person shared their high of the day and their low of the day. I especially like this one with older kids. Some new friends told us they play a game where everybody takes turns being someone else. So the seven-year old might be mom one night and her older brother the next. It's a great way to bring compassion and empathy to the table.

Rituals and traditions provide a safe container of predictability and connection. Now, more than ever, we need them, both personally and politically. Daily rituals, done with awareness, help us appreciate the present moment in all its glory. Traditions help us find our grounding. Even though we are worried, grieving, or frightened by world events, we can find our place.

This is not the time to reinvent holiday traditions but it can be a time to take stock of what is truly a beloved tradition and what is an expectation. We can add a blessing or ritual at the dinner table, trying different ones until we find the one that fits. Our holiday letters can be notes of gratitude, saying something we love about all the people in our families.

As we create our own rituals in America, families all over the world are practicing their own rituals and traditions. The Winter Solstice is celebrated in many Northern European countries. Those in the southern hemisphere are greeting the summer months with family picnics and praying for good crops.

The Muslim community recently finished observing Ramadan, a month long observance where everyone abstains from eating, drinking, smoking and sex from dawn to sunset. Their most important holiday, Ramadan symbolizes spiritual reflection, renewal and family bonds. Fasting is a way of experiencing hunger and developing sympathy for the hungry and homeless throughout the world. More people in our country are finding that fasting is a very personal way of generating empathy and compassion.

In the wake of the 9.11 tragedy, the media reports that more Americans are looking for connection and kindness in their lives. I imagine people all over the world want the same things. For me, I turned to my family. I sought refuge for my own heartache. I felt comforted when I held my children and my husband. We added the line about blessing our family at our nightly ritual. We call our far-away families more often. And like Beth, every morning, I open the shades.

Copyright © 2001 Anna Stewart. All rights reserved worldwide.