What is ritual for the sake of ritual?

On the eve of the full moon

when the subset was only a few moments behind the moon rise,

I walked to the tallest point of my town I could think of.

On dry, snow swept open land I looked East

and waited for her to rise.

I turned west and watched the spectacle the sun was producing as it set,

throwing peach and purple into the clouds.

The wind blew and chilled my legs and my cheeks.

I looked west and saw the town I call home.

Beyond it’s western edge extends open prairie towards the mountain range.

To the south, even more dramatice mountains rise,

Blanketed by fierce snow and wind.

This little town,

“Gem of the Plains,”

situated between mountains

upon this expense of prairie,

How insignificant this tiny spot of earth feels.

And yet…

How infinite.

The landscape’s memory far outreaches our inhabitance.

This land and this town contain infinite stories.

In this town, so many lives

containing deep infinite wells of each individual’s experiences, knowledge, emotions.

And in that moment,

I felt love for them all.

And love for myself, too.

A deep, infinite, unconditional love.

I turned back East, still awaiting the full moon’s face.

But there was a thick cloud bank,

and I’m afraid she wouldn’t rise above it for at least another hour.

That insistent wind, the darkening sky-

It drew me back down the hill,

seeking the warmth and protection of shelter from the exposed dusk.

And so, what is ritual for the sake of ritual?

I came here to watch the sun set and full moon rise,

but I saw neither because of the clouds obstructing the horizon line.

In this ritual I felt deep, pure, unconditional love

for all beings, and for myself.

So even without viewing the moon rise over the eastern mountains,

there was a gift in this ritual.

Maybe the sake of ritual

is creating space and time,

in an intentional and sacred way,

to open ourselves to the unknown gifts to be received,

And accept whatever that is.