“On a 1987 trip to Maui, I rose at dawn and walked to the beach. The sun was just rising behind Haleakala, tinting the ocean with pinks and reds. I wandered along the coral sand to a place where the warm water crashed against lava rocks.
There I set up a small stone in the sand in honor of the ancient Hawaiian deities. Sitting before it, I opened myself to the presence of the akua (gods and goddesses) around me. Afterward I walked into the ocean and threw a plumeria lei onto the water, offering it to Hina, Pele, Laka, Kane, Lono, Kanaloa, and all their kin.
I used no lengthy speeches and brandished no tools in the air. Still, the deities were there, all around, as the waves splashed against my legs and the sunrise broke fully over the ancient volcano, touching the sea with emerald light.”
Of all the books I’ve read on witchcraft (which is a lot, but not nearly enough), this excerpt from Wicca by Scott Cunningham has always stuck with me. It is a beautiful reminder that ritual can be spontaneous and intuitively constructed, tuning into spirits of place and Self. While I value creating more elaborate and formal rituals, this is such a lovely example of what we can do when our lives are busy, or we are travelling, or we don’t have access to the traditional tools, or we need to be inconspicuous, etc. In essence, we can watch the sunrise, and this too can be ritual.