I took Friday to brag about my upcoming appearance at the Newnan Carnegie Library, where I will be delivering a TED-style talk (although their sensible aversion to naming it has led me to think of it as "None Dare Call It Lichtenbergianism"), so I didn't really complete my thoughts on the purpose of RITUAL.
It is important—it is really important—that you not think of RITUAL as something involved or complicated. You don't have to break out the smudge stick every time you want to write a poem. That's not the way it works.
Maybe it would be helpful to distinguish between macro-RITUAL and micro-RITUAL. When I was waste-booking my thoughts about my theme camp 3 Old Men for Burning Man, I wrote that there were two ritual frames in play: one was the Great Ritual of Burning Man itself; the other was the ritual of the 3 Old Men Labyrinth. Big ritual, little ritual.
Likewise, you may have simple, daily rituals that get your brain into gear, while at other times you have Grand Rituals that require more than just "turning the light switch on."
For example, my daily sitting down to blog or write or compose is pretty simple. I try to clean off my desk so I can see my deskpad calendar, I clear out my email inboxes, I may put on innocuous music for background, and then I just fire up the blog. Ritual: a repeated action designed to effect change in the self.
Then every winter solstice, I engage with my fellow Lichtenbergians in our Annual Meeting, which has all the fire and meditation and adult beverages you need to make you think it's important. Because it is important.
Big ritual. Little ritual. The purpose is the same: it is you making the conscious decision to cross that boundary from everyday life into that liminal space where the universe offers you the chance to change it.