Latest news with #ritual
Forbes
3 days ago
- Business
- Forbes
The Hidden Cost Of Remote Work: Lost Rituals And Human Moments
Stressed remote worker Remember the last time you received a fresh stack of business cards? I remember mine came in two neat bundles. Thick cardstock. Crisp edges. Raised ink. To anyone else, they may have looked like just stacks of paper. But to me, they held something more. Identity. Connection. Possibility. Each card felt like a future conversation waiting to happen. Who would I hand this to? What would that exchange mean? A future client? A collaborator? A vendor? Maybe even a friend. The act itself, the handoff, the glance, the small moment of recognition, was more than transactional. It was relational. It said, I see you. I may want to work with you. Let's find out. The last stack I got was in 2019. I haven't needed one since. That loss feels irrational but real. There are new digital versions of a business card. But it's not the paper I miss. It's what the paper represented. A ritual of presence. A symbol of becoming. A small act that carried weight. And the more I traveled, the more I realized it wasn't just my ritual. It was a ritual that meant something around the world. Having worked across countries, I've gained a deep appreciation for ritual. I learned that in Japan and Thailand, it's customary to hand out the card with both hands, with a short bow in Japan. In America, the card and the Rolodex were once part of a powerful directory of relationships. In India, I saw leaders flip through entire binders of cards like living archives of conversations. I also learned never to bend a card or hand out a worn one, especially in Asia, where that could be seen as a sign of disrespect. These weren't idiosyncrasies or outdated protocols. They were quiet reflections of what people valued. Presence. Care. Mutual regard. Exchanging business cards was one ritual that is now going increasingly extinct. But it's far from the only one. Hybrid/Remote life is here to stay. It's efficient. It works. But in the process, many of the rituals that once grounded us have quietly disappeared. Calendar slots stack like bricks. No thresholds. No transitions. One click and you're in. One click and you're out. We used to pause before a big conversation. Now we're replying to emails until the very second a Zoom starts. We used to walk someone out after a difficult conversation. Now we close a tab. We used to debrief in the hallway after a high-stakes meeting. Now we click into the next call. We used to welcome new hires with a lunch, a laugh, a nameplate. Now they log in from home and hope someone remembers their name. We didn't just lose face time. We lost face. The small graces of presence. The cues that made people feel real to each other. That disconnection isn't just felt. It's measurable. And the data shows it. In a Harvard study with over 1,100 participants, researchers found that teams who practiced simple rituals felt more meaning in their work. These rituals included a physical action, an emotional expression and a shared sense of purpose. They didn't need to be complex. What mattered was the connection they created. People who took part in the rituals were more likely to see their work as purposeful and to support their teammates. This matters now more than ever. Gallup's latest research shows that fully remote workers report higher levels of daily stress and disconnection. The absence of workplace ritual may be part of the reason. Fully remote workers report more daily stress and loneliness than hybrid or on-site employees. They're less likely to be thriving in their overall lives, even when they're more engaged in their work. In fact, only 36 percent of fully remote workers say they're thriving, compared to 42 percent of hybrid workers and 42 percent of on-site remote-capable workers. They also report higher levels of sadness, anger and disconnection. Remote-Employees-More-Likely-to-Experience-Negative-Emotions The office doesn't guarantee connection. Hybrid works. But connection still requires intention—and ritual is how intention takes shape. Even well-meaning leaders fall into the trap of efficiency. We default to auto-generated onboarding emails. We congratulate someone's promotion with a bullet point on a slide deck. We run meetings that move quickly through tasks but leave no space for reflection or pause. These aren't rituals. They're systems. And systems without presence tend to feel empty. If we want culture to feel alive, we need to hold space for what makes it human. Rituals are not the same as routine. A recurring meeting is a routine. A question asked with care is a ritual. One manages time. The other shapes belonging. We don't need to go back to old practices. But we do need to go forward with new intentionality. You don't need to bring back name cards. You just need to bring back names. You don't need fancy onboarding videos. You just need a real welcome. You don't need to stand when someone enters a room. You just need to notice when someone does. Before the slides and updates, take a moment. Just one breath. A pause to let managers arrive, not just log in. In busy workdays, small rituals like this remind us: we're not just here to talk, we're here to connect. Consider these simple actions that can bring more presence, intention, and meaning into everyday team moments. If we let automation take over, everything speeds up. But meaning needs slowness. Rituals ask us to linger. To witness. To care. Without them, even great strategy feels hollow. Even smart work feels forgettable. And the paradox is this. The more digital we become, the more ritual we need. To anchor us. To humanize us. To remind us that behind every mute button is a person. Not all rituals survive. But the ones that do, do something timeless. They help people feel seen in systems designed for speed. They make space for dignity in places ruled by metrics. They offer a rhythm when everything feels out of tune. We may never bring back the name cards. But we can bring back what they stood for. Attention. Presence. The quiet dignity of being known. Because we are not just here to work. We are here to matter. What small ritual might you bring back tomorrow, to make the workday feel more human again?
Asharq Al-Awsat
24-05-2025
- Asharq Al-Awsat
Fire Walkers Defy Pain in Ancient Greek Ritual
Under a cloud of incense smoke, a group of men and women in a village in northern Greece swayed slowly to the music before removing their shoes and rushing, barefoot, onto waiting embers. The fire walking ritual, held on the day of the Orthodox feast of Saint Constantine and Saint Helena on May 21, has been practiced for over a century in four villages of the Greek region of Macedonia, which borders Bulgaria. Each year, this ceremony -- called "Anastenaria" ("sighs" in Greek) -- attracts crowds of visitors. Considered a pagan ritual to honor the ancient Greek Dionysus and Artemis, the ancient custom was once banned by the powerful Greek Orthodox Church. For the past several decades, cooler heads have prevailed. But the rite remains shrouded in mystery. "Those who walk on fire don't like to talk about it much," explained Sotiris Tzivelis, 86, who grew up in the village of Agia Eleni, near the city of Serres. "Back then, when someone fell ill, we would call the 'anastenarides' to help heal them," he told AFP. The family requesting help would make a special handkerchief, to be blessed during the ceremony. It is one of these handkerchiefs that the ceremony leader, Babis Theodorakis, gives participants to mark the start of the ritual in the "konaki" -- a room decorated with Orthodox icons where participants prepare by dancing to the sound of the lyre and the drum. When ready, they head to a nearby meadow and form a circle around the glowing embers. "I have never walked on fire, but every year, I give our family's handkerchief to the dancers before taking it back at the end of the ritual," said Tzivelis. Pagan ritual According to local tradition, the rite originated in the villages of Kosti and Brodivo in southeastern Bulgaria, where Greek communities lived before emigrating to Greece in the early 20th century with the collapse of the Ottoman Empire. "How to walk on fire without getting burned, I can't explain it to you!" said Babis Theodorakis, the ceremony leader. Apostolis Vlaspos, 65, who has practiced the ritual for 20 years, described it as "something internal, an indescribable force". "The first time I walked on fire, I saw the image of Saint Constantine, whom we call 'grandfather', and I felt like an electric shock," he said. After circling the glowing embers three times, participants begin to walk on them, swaying to the music and clutching icons under their arms. When they return to the "konaki", visitors rush to photograph them and check that they have no burns on their feet -- proof of a miracle, according to believers. The ceremony concludes with a meal of mutton specially slaughtered for the occasion. "Those who say that people walking on fire are in a trance are wrong," said villager Kostas Liouros, 67. "What happens to them is natural and requires mental peace and great concentration," he explained. "Some say we drink alcohol or that before removing our socks and shoes, we coat our feet with herbs and things like that, but none of that is true," added another participant, who declined to give his name.
South China Morning Post
11-05-2025
- Entertainment
- South China Morning Post
Study Buddy (Explorer): Buy a cocktail and hit a villain at this bar in Guangzhou, China
Content provided by British Council Read the following text, and answer questions 1-9 below [1] A bar in southern China is trending on social media for providing cocktails and giving customers a chance to indulge in a traditional ritual used to drive away bad luck. The drink – a 'Villain Hitting Cocktail' – is served at the Lotus Lounge bar in Guangzhou, Guangdong province and claims customers can banish bad energy with a slipper in their hand. [2] According to a video clip that attracted 50,000 likes and 130,000 shares on a leading social media platform, after a customer makes an order, a waitperson will bring them a wooden box with a cocktail glass inside and a woman's slipper made of plastic on top. [3] Customers can smack the 'villain' themselves or ask the waiter to do it on their behalf while they watch the process. In one video, a woman filming can be heard telling a waiter, 'Please help me whack those I dislike and whack my troublesome boss.' [4] The waiter is then seen holding a slipper that will be used to beat a piece of green incantation paper. Beforehand, the customers write down the names of 'villains' on the piece of paper. '[I] hit your head so you will never succeed in your life; hit your hand so you cannot pick up money even when the money is in front of you, and hit your foot so you will not have any shoes to wear,' the waiter chants while smacking the paper with the slipper. [5] At the end of the ritual, the waiter uses a lighter to burn the paper to signal that the bad luck is gone. Then the rite is over. The waiter opens the wooden box to present the cocktail inside to the customer. It is not clear how much the 'Villain Hitting Cocktail' is, but the average price for a drink at the bar is around 150 yuan (HK$159) per person, according to a top customer-reviewing website, [6] The 'beating the villain' ritual, or da siu yan in Cantonese, has been popular in Guangdong for centuries. Before the Chinese government cracked down on superstitious activities in the 1960s, helping customers 'beat the villain' was common in Guangdong cities, with stalls usually set up by elderly women under bridges or in alleyways. Today, some temples in Guangzhou are said to be the most effective venues for beating the villain. Visitors pay about 100 yuan for the ritual. [7] The bar's novel service has gained traction online. 'It is so funny. I want to try to repel all the bad people or bad things from me,' one internet user said. Another person saw a business opportunity and said, 'This bar is near my home. I can go there to hit the villain for you.' Source: South China Morning Post, April 23 Questions 1. What is the purpose of the drink according to paragraph 1? 2. What does the 'order' in paragraph 2 refer to? 3. In paragraph 2, the box contains … A. a pair of wooden utensils. B. a cocktail and a menu. C. a drink and footwear. D. footwear and an empty glass. 4. Find a word in paragraph 3 that means 'hit'. 5. According to paragraph 4, the last part of the chant is directed at which part of the 'villain's' body and why? 6. Decide whether the following statements about paragraphs 4 and 5 are True, False or the information is Not Given. Fill in ONE circle only for each. (4 marks) (i) Hitting the hand prevents the 'villain' from becoming wealthy. (ii) The cocktail contains gin and lemon juice. (iii) Customer write their own names on the paper before the ritual. (iv) Burning the paper signifies the removal of bad luck. 7. In paragraph 6, when did the Chinese government ban da siu yan? 8. Who typically ran the 'beat the villain' stalls in the past, according to paragraph 6? 9. What does one internet user, mentioned in paragraph 7, offer to do for others? Customers can 'hit' the villains – names written on green incantation paper – themselves or ask a waitperson to do it. Photo: Douyin Answers 1. to drive away bad luck 2. a 'Villain Hitting Cocktail' 3. C 4. whack 5. The foot, so they never have any shoes to wear. 6. (i) T; (ii) NG; (iii) F; (iv) T 7. in the 1960s 8. elderly women 9. One internet user offered to go to the bar and hit a villain on someone else's behalf.
Axios
25-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Axios
What to expect at the Goat Head, Salt Lake's fresh and sunny occult-themed cafe
Take a "cul(t)inary" trip to the dark side at Salt Lake City's new Satanic -goat-worshipping cafe. Driving the news: The Goat Head opened a few weeks ago in the former KoKo Kitchen location at 300 East and 700 South, with breakfast and lunch offerings to tempt the devil himself. What's inside: The menu features standard — but solid — diner fare with names like "Morning ritual" (eggs, protein and potatoes), "Children of the Corn" (shrimp and grits) and "Hail Seitan" (seitan sandwich). There are several vegan and vegetarian dishes, just in case animal sacrifice isn't your thing. The cafe serves a handful of local beers and mimosas, including the "Emily's Hazed" lavender lemonade with prosecco. Zoom in: I tried the "Poultry in Motion" pulled chicken sandwich ($15) with the leek and mushroom soup du jour ($6). The sammy was a flavorful surprise, with a noticeably strong pickle and a soft pretzel bun. Between the lines: The occult theming is generally limited to the restaurant's name, logo and menu. The interior is minimalist and sunny, with no altars or dead chickens to be found (except the one in my sandwich). When to go: The Goat Head is open 8am-3pm Tuesday through Sunday.
