Reinventing Ritual

For many thousands of years rituals have played an important role in social life. Ritual was a way for people to relate to the animate world which allowed them to renew their relationships with one another and their responsibilities to the cosmic order.

As the climate shifts and dominant cultures fray, ritual offers a means to navigate transitional times. By reinventing rituals that are meaningful, communities can create coherent experiences that offer a playful anchor in uncertainty. A light hand can be helpful with reinventing ritual. Remembering how to play and invent is half the fun.

House of Two Rivers

The house of two rivers was a series of curated events, that brought people together to explore the creation of a rite of passage, to bid farewell to a childhood home. The project turned into a kind of initiation into the wider landscape surrounding this house and a deeper investigation of identity, rivers, belonging and reconciliation.

To dwell is to feel at home in a place, wrapped in memory and feeling. The house of two rivers has been that place for us. A place to come back to, when the world no longer makes sense. In 9 months, we will bid farewell to this dwelling place. In these times, a house can become a metaphor, a series of questions and a gathering place for creative exploration. Join us for three poetic Sundays, to explore the making of a rite of passage for a house, as it transitions towards an unknowable future.

Source
Undercurrents
The crossing

Source

The day began with a series of cancellations. Everyone we invited was unable to come. We considered rescheduling the event and then decided to carry on, just the two of us. Over coffee we crafted a definition of source. Source, it turns out, is etymologically associated with an uprising, an ever flowing upsurge. We decided it could be defined as:

‘The continual co-arising of all things in their authenticity and interdependence.’

After coffee, we descended to the river. Through the brilliant sunshine we walked in silence down to Pound Bend. We spoke out the history of that land. White settlement and dispossession. Wurundjeri resistance and survival. We drew water from the river and returned home to eat lunch and hear about the history of our house, via a telephone call to our parents. In the afternoon we made topocosms in an attempt to awaken the source energy of the land and our connection to it. A topocosm is “the world order of a particular place.” A topocosm is the entire complex of any given locality conceived as a living organism – not just the human community but the total community – the plants, animals and soils of the place.

Undercurrents

Two more friends joined us for our second exploratory day. Using the river as a guide, we slid like kids down the steep escarpment, with gem stones in our pockets. The heat of the midday sun demanded that we swim. The river gurgled ~ ~ ~ ~ and spoke in tongues that we each deciphered differently.

Over the day we explored what pulls and tugs at us, what we cannot control and what we wish to have influence over – family patterns, fear of the darkness, ugliness, the great unraveling of our ecosystems. Creative practice spawned talismans in the form of a poem, a drawing, an object, and in installation.

The crossing

We had always imagined that the final threshold of the house of two rivers would involve a river crossing. We did not anticipate that this river crossing would entail an arduous swim upstream, in costumed attire. The day started out well, with a recap of the process so far. Our group was larger, with an additional 4 people attending. We each choose an object to incorporate into our costumes and headed for Black Flat. Once there, we collected and created a natural costume to cross the river in. Each person had their portrait photographed – natural dignity shown through.

Through an old primary school friend’s backyard, we made our way to the river and submerged ourselves. The water was cool from April rains. It took our breath away, and the atmosphere shifted - anxiety entered the foray. The swim took time. It was a process of entering into the unknown together. On the other side we scrambled up the rocky slope that we had slid down during undercurrents. With frozen toes we entered the house, relieved to be home.

House of Two Rivers / Practice notes

For our first event we invited 20+ people to attend. Only 5 could make it. And then on the actual day no one came. It was just the two of us. We considered canceling, but Kirsty reasoned that we had to put the event into the world and we had a duty to perform it as originally scheduled. We spent time exploring ‘source’, which of course we post-rationalised was the perfect way to begin – just the two of us and the origin of things. It surprised us how much that day would come to mean to us. A portal opened up and we skipped through it.
It’s always important to start with coffee and to discuss the arc of the day. Three knots along the journey is enough, five will do too, but no need for more. In between these knots, we must let go and open up to whatever is emerging. The day unfolds from our joint attunement to the meanings that emerge between us.
When we move through the land and not across it, we inevitably encounter the traces of colonial history and stories of oppression and violence as well as resistance. Perhaps the land holds these stories until we are ready to hear them. Exploring the river and surrounds, provided us with a chance to research the Wurundjeri and white settler history of Warrandyte. We found a local historian and read his books. We spoke the stories of Pound Bend where the events had unfolded years before. It influenced our making in the afternoon. Here, reconciliation with what has gone before and what remains unresolved, became a landscape beyond the intellect. It needed to be felt; waded through. It needed to be spoken and known from the heart. To both our surprise, this experience and the cumulative performance of house of two rivers gifted us with a profound sense of belonging to this place. Where previously we thought that this project would enable us to say goodbye to a place, we found ourselves initiated into it.
During the second event ‘undercurrents’, objects revealed themselves to be great companions when adventuring into the unknown. We each pocketed gem stones and carried them down rocky slopes. At the river’s refuse we spied the dumping grounds of other people’s objects – an ancient computer, an old coke bottle.

It’s hard to visit the undercurrents in a day. You can hang out there at the waters’ edge, and try to decipher the language that the river speaks or the patterns that hold you in eddies of thought and action. You can dip your head back and see what lies underneath. But truly allowing these patterns to surface takes patience and frequent visits. Tension. And Ugliness. Anxiety too – rippled through the day. In hindsight we would want to spend longer in the undercurrents next time.
or the final event, ‘crossing over’, we swam up river in costumed attire. The swim was harder and riskier that anticipated. It brought an edge to the proceedings. One moment we were playing make believe, and then mortality lurked beneath the river’s cold brown surface. Were we being taught a lesson? That the power invoked in ritual must be treated with respect? Who knows. Afterwards, one by one we warmed our shivering bodies under a hot shower, and painted in silence. It felt as though something had taken place. Something which we couldn’t quite name.
Our group grew incrementally over each event, from 2 to 4 to 7. It always felt as though we were participating in something bigger than us, and the growing size of the group helped to accentuate this movement. There was also real joy in introducing new members to the absurdity and chaotic magic that was house of two rivers.