Navigating Others in Ceremony & Ritual Creation
Photo by David Straight on Unsplash
Yesterday morning, I had my second call with a client in California who is writing and officiating her friends’ September wedding ceremony.
Kendall is not an officiant. In fact, she's an economist! But she wants to honour her friends’ ceremony request with heart and intention.
After stumbling across my blog and liking what she read here, she initially reached out to me in February with this message:
"I want to help facilitate them designing a ceremony that feels authentic to what this moment means to them and who they are. Do you ever provide consultation services?"
This sort of request was new for me. She would be the one doing the writing and officiating, not me. And since this was new territory for her, she wanted a trusted sounding board and guide along the way.
I’ll be honest - I was both excited and daunted by the prospect at first. Until that point, when folks hired me, it was (and still is) usually to create and officiate a ceremony. I wondered how a long-distance consultation arrangement like this might work:
Would my listening ear and guiding questions be enough to meaningfully help Kendall fulfill her task?
And then I remembered that I’ve actually been doing this type of work on an informal basis for some time. Here are a few examples:
Over 2-3 phone calls, I helped Toronto-based spiritual-but-not-religious friends from Buddhist and Catholic upbringings shape a secular dinner grace that resonated for them and their little family;
Based on two conversations, I wrote and recorded a simple guided memorial ritual for friends in the foothills of Alberta whose neighbour had died unexpectedly. They knew they wanted to honour her life somehow and release some lingering energy before their new neighbours moved in;
I helped a local friend devise a simple, but powerful, gathering of close male friends to mark his transition away from his identity as a self-absorbed, child-free young man and fully step into his new identity as a community- and family-oriented father who is in a committed and loving relationship. We came up with a plan for his ceremony in a 1-2 hour long call.
In all of these instances, the people I worked with didn’t need me to be their officiant. What they needed was someone to help them clarify their intentions for the ritual or ceremony and to help them shape it into something that felt right for them.
My first official consultation-only arrangement
After reminding myself of the value that I brought to these other situations and refreshing some coaching training I did in my past career in the federal public service, I scheduled a no-obligation call with Kendall to further explore her request.
During that first call, we got to know each other a bit, and I learned about how she hoped to approach the ceremony and where her potential blind spots were. At the end of the call, we agreed on an arrangement and fee. I felt a lovely connection with Kendall and excited by the adventure that lay before us. Immediately after our call, Kendall sent me a note to say, “I feel so lifted by the thought of having you as a wise and experienced guide as I hold this role for them.” It was reassuring to know that she felt buoyed by the support that I would offer her. As it turned out, my listening ear and guiding questions would be enough after all.
Coach, navigator, or both?
My goal is to guide and empower Kendall, without dictating the direction she takes.
I don't tell her step-by-step how to craft the ceremony. Instead, I ask good questions, listen closely to her thoughts and ideas, and reflect back some of the insights that emerge for both of us.
After all, the potential for a meaningful ceremony lies buried within her couple's story. And, as their officiant, it is she (not I!) who is positioned to tease out the resonant symbols and truths from it. From there, she will be able to craft a ceremony that authentically reflects them and their story, and helps to move them safely and joyfully through this rite of passage.
Kendall already has several qualities that are important for stepping into this role: she’s open-hearted, intuitive and a good listener. She’s also wise enough to know that she could use some guidance and assistance. That’s where I come in. In many ways, for Kendall, I’m her ceremony coach.
I help her to recognize, lean into and harness her innate knowing and unique skillset, and equip her with the tools to create a transformative ceremony for her friends.
But somehow, the word ‘coach’ doesn’t adequately describe what I am doing with Kendall or what I did to help others tap into and express their innate need for and knowing of ceremony and ritual. I felt there had to be a word that better captured this role than ‘coach’.
Yesterday Kendall told me that, through this process, she has realized how ceremony truly matters, and how the symbolism and stories we weave in ceremony provide a framework for our lives.
She ended our call by saying, "This has been so helpful. It's nice to not feel alone in this canoe."
And with that simple statement, a word came to me that better describes what I’m providing with these ceremony consultations. Navigator.
Thank you, Kendall, for helping me to embrace my role as navigator more fully.
Is there a milestone that you would like help navigating?
Psst… if you enjoyed this post, you may also want to check out my post on how to reclaim meaningful ceremony in your life! Click the link below to access it!
Please share this post and comment below!
AUTHOR: KARLA COMBRES
As a Legacy Guide & Celebrant, I help individuals, couples, families and organizations make the big and small moments in life count, and shape their legacy along the way. I offer:
Drawing on my vast experience as a Life-Cycle Celebrant and in working with people at the end of life, I am uniquely qualified to help people move through transitions meaningfully and to think about how they want to leave this world so they can live better now.
I’m based in Saskatchewan, Canada and serve clients worldwide. Read more about me here.
Find me on: