HOLD THAT POSE: THE VALUE OF PERSONAL RITUALS

by Kim Marvel

We’re not sure who took that original photograph back in 1976. It was probably my wife’s brother. We were in a beautiful setting: my parents’ mountain cabin in southern Colorado. In the midst of pine trees, next to the flowing river under a bright blue sky, our springtime outdoor wedding had gone off without a hitch. Greeting guests and gesturing as we chatted, we were unaware that the sleuth photographer was taking our picture and that the photo taken at that moment would start a quirky, personal tradition. The next year, on our first anniversary, for some silly reason we decided to replicate the identical pose of that original photo. Then, year after year, we continued the anniversary tradition of capturing on film our best imitation of “the pose.” It wasn’t always easy to take a photo of ourselves in the days before smartphone selfies, but we did our best. Although we’ve lost track of some snapshots, at last count I could find 15 images of “the pose” we’ve taken over our 49 years of marriage.

Sometimes my wife and I sit together and look at those images. We quickly become immersed in our past. The background of each photo is a clue to where we were living at the time. Yes, change happens. Our clothing styles and hair color have changed; facial wrinkles creep into the pictures as we have matured over the years. But as we peruse the collection, one thing is guaranteed: we feel closer. We recall stories, laugh, and are reconnected with our past and each other.

Robert Fulghum writes about the rituals in our lives. You may remember him as the author of “All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten.” In a later book, “From Beginning to End,” he highlights and celebrates rituals that are associated with feelings and memories. Some rituals are for important public occasions such as weddings and funerals, with the recitations of traditional passages, singing of well-known songs, and repetition of familiar actions (“You may now kiss the bride.”) Family rituals can bring comfort and meaning, such as visiting a gravesite on Memorial Day or repeating traditions around the Thanksgiving table with friends and family. But Fulghum also delves further into personal rituals - into day-to-day habits that can bring a sense of peace, calmness, and reflection. Many of us enjoy morning rituals – donning a favorite robe at daybreak, sipping a cup of coffee while observing birds gathering on the backyard feeder. Perhaps strolling along a familiar neighborhood path or spending time in daily prayer or meditation in a certain place in the house. Preparing a favorite meal using a recipe handed down through the family. These repeated actions can create a sense of stability and peace. In addition, certain personal rituals, such as looking through old photos, wearing a certain article of clothing, or reading archived letters can be especially meaningful, setting the stage for reflection, storytelling, and sharing memories. They create a sense of emotional closeness. Fulghum writes that rituals are not just habits or routines. They create associations. The most powerful rituals lead us to reflect and remember “when you look back on your life again and again paying attention to the rivers you’ve crossed, the gates you have opened and walked through, the thresholds you have walked over.” Our wedding photo series of “the pose” fits that category. In our early years, when we annually tried to imitate our wedding photo, it was for fun, a playful moment to see if we could recreate the posture. Now, when we sit together and review the sequence of photos, it is personal ritual, a time of shared memories, reflection, and closeness.

Besides, there is nothing wrong with having some playful moments in our lives. When I first considered writing this story, I was hesitant, feeling somewhat embarrassed to disclose this silly tradition of replicating a wedding photo over the years. But reading Fulghum’s book changed my perception of the tradition. And then there’s George Bernard Shaw, “We don’t stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop playing.” Thanks, George, for your encouragement to keep playing.

Eight years ago my wife and I had the good fortune of inheriting my parents’ mountain cabin, the exact location of our wedding, among the pine trees next to the river. Next year we will celebrate our 50th anniversary. You can bet on that date in May we’ll do our best to replicate “the pose” once again.