Do you ever find yourself caught in the in-between?
We strive to define and control time. Sacred and mundane, holy and ordinary, but there are times that overlap.
Ritual I think is to allow us the gateway into the space that is hyper ordinary, but there are times that its redundant.
I carried my tallis and tefillin up the mountain to daven on top. It was cold but sunny and nearly no wind so a semi exposed arm wasn't going to be much of an issue, though there was ice in my beard.
What I found was shabbat like, the sign was already there, the ritual componets were surplus.
This isn't always the case, I travel with my shorter tallis often and have davend on the seashore several times and found that other place, but in the mountains I was already there and that's part of the alure of the high country I suppose. Maybe a legacy of old New England Transcendentalism that survives in our mountains, where they think they came up with a novel mystical tradition without knowing what the hasids had been up to long before.
I've been on this mountain top a few dozen times. Every time it has been a different experience, and I've never been sorry I've gone up nor ever told a struggling hiker that it was anything but worth the climb. I've done it in groups and solo, mornings and nites, good weather and bad, summer and winter.
I'm not sure what keeps me climbing it, I'm not sure I need to bring my ritual objects back to this place. The mountain was the ritual, the sign has always been up there waiting for me.