A Ritual For January

The hubbub of Yule seems like a far distant memory at this point. The wonderful glut of public rituals and gatherings has all been packed away like so many ornaments, waiting for another year. But that doesn’t mean that rituals stop happening. And if the truth be told, for us, it’s those quiet, private, personal rituals that actually mean the most to us.

Here’s a ritual from our personal stash. Adapt it as fits your tradition, values and circumstance.

Pitch a Penny – Of all of the rituals that we do together, this has to be one of our all-time favorites. We’ve been practicing this for more than a decade and it becomes more special to us each year. It’s a simple piece of magic, to be sure, and doesn’t require much in the way of set up – Just two pennies from the expiring year and, in our case, a willingness to brave the elements.

We drive to a high Cliffside along the rugged Sonoma coast. We’ve dubbed this place the “ultimate picnic spot” and it overlooks a favourite stretch of ours that we call “Magic Beach”. We’ve done all sorts of magic there too.

We park on a precarious little pull-in and begin the short climb up a well-used deer trail. We carefully pick our way through the Coyote bushes and blackberry bushes, minding that we don’t tread on any mushrooms or the occasional creepy crawly thing. We look for mule deer tracks (and the occasional bobcat tracks). We take deep breaths, filling our lungs with a swirling blend of sea air and fresh flora.

Eventually we find ourselves on the edge of the cliff, overlooking a cove that looks like a set from a pirate movie. There’s a huge outcropping that the relentless ocean has carved a hole through. Some years there’s a waterfall and, depending on the tides, huge waves crashing in making incredible sprays.

And then, standing as close the edge as we dare, we each grab a penny. We take turns remembering the year – the challenges and the high points. We speak out loud as if the Old Year was just a few hundred yards away listening to us. We thank the year that was (sometimes with a good riddance!) and pitch the pennies into the sea below. If we’re feeling brave, we strip down and stand naked in front of the New Year and welcome what’s on the way. Some years, if it’s cold and wet we just lift up our coats and flash our chests. Other years, even with the rain, we’ve frolicked about like mad witches.

Huge bowls of clam chowder and warm bread frequently follow this ritual!