Rites of passage

It's the middle of cold and flu season over here, and if the amount of coughing that goes on is any indication, there's a lot of it around. I have my own share - and possibly someone else's as well, I'm thinking. So I spent yesterday sitting (lying) on the couch watching DVDs that were sent over to me from home. Talk about good timing. Last time I had a cold, I kept it a secret from Mum an Dad so they wouldn't worry, only to find that they had a bigger secret in Mum's slipped disc in her back that landed her in hospital and still has her on pain killers. I got away with that one, but did think to ask them for some of my comforting honey and eucalyptus lollies that I suck like there's no tomorrow when I get a cold. It's a ritual. And they arrived here at 9am yesterday morning, just in time to get me through the vileness of this cold. Which made me think. there are so many rituals people have to get them through whatever it that's going wrong - or right - in their lives.

How many people out there clock watch when they just need to make it through another day at work? How many have a little tick, a twitch, an itch? And how much of that goes on around me in any one day? I know I'm not the only person in my office who isn't exactly committed to a career in architecture. Having seen the face of a visiting friend fall when I couldn't manage to name a single building in London since 2000, apart from the infamous gerkin, that was worth visiting, I know there are some out there who are devoted to their career. My flatmate, an accountant, is not passionate about her work in the same way, but she clearly enjoys it. Her perfectionism drives her to do the job well. There are plenty of people out there who don't feel like that. I happen to be one of them. I've tried to get her to strive for mediocrity (it's far easier to achieve, and, when you reach your goal, can be just as satisfying, I promise) but she continues to aim for the impossible. That's what gets her through. Striving to make no mistakes. I just try not to make too many that will cause problems for the occupants of the building, whoever they may be. Mind you, doesn't mean I think I catch every mistake I make. In fact I know I don't. Somehow it doesn't worry me too much, because the thing that gets me through my days at work is knowing that the pay off is being able to go away.

One of my friends at home in Australia is falling back on her saving routines right now, I'm guessing. She's just found out that her boyfriend of more than six years, who she'd figured she was going to marry and had started looking for houses with, was cheating on her. Several times, actually. It's hard when you find out this information and you're on the other side of the world. You want to be there for your friend. I'm fairly certain she's needing her friends right now. I know they went through the ritual sorrow-drowning last Saturday. In a twist of fate I was out drinking at the same time for at least part of it. She's going through several other time honoured routines for getting over a scumbag scoundrel of an ex. She's circling the wagons of family and friends, and purging her life of everything relating to him. She's also planning the soul refreshing break of a girly holiday, and adopting a new motto for her life, and in particular her relationships with men - play with them, then through them away. I'm not sure I agree with the last bit, but the spring cleaning part could help.

At the other end of a relationship, my flatmate is relying on rituals to help her know what to do with the world's slowest moving romance. It's kind of cute and old fashioned that it was a huge step for this brand new shiny almost couple to hold hands. Not something that happens very often in this day and age (and listen to my grandmothers' voices coming out of my keyboard right there). But it suits the two of them. It's like a sweet old school courtship ritual, or rather a dance, where each has to be aware of which steps the other is taking. The only difference to the centuries old routine is that it's not lead solely by the man, but rather they take it in turns to advance by millimeters. And it's the rituals that let each of them - each as shy and sweet and uncertain as the other - know that the other is not running away, or just a friend. They've finally gotten to a point where I think they feel a little more comfortable together, and it's a relief to my ears not hearing about it all the time to be honest. But that was just another ritual that was repeated with the agonising attention to detail of the perfectionist. Every move, every word, every interpretation had to be gone over in infinite detail to make sure that nothing was missed. And here we are, with the two of them planning a night out for Valentine's Day. And another ritual to see them through the next phase of their relationship.