Creative Practice as Ritual Process

Many people feel the urge to be creative, to acknowledge a deeper creative instinct without over-thinking or doubt. They may look to art or music, or find a creative outlet through starting a business, assembling a new outfit, or decorating the house.

They try to satisfy an inner drive to create.

This innate drive is fundamental to human existence, compelling us to grow, develop, and change over time. It seems that life abhors stagnation and seeks to force us into change, whether we like it or not. This fundamental force is creative, consistently pushing us to create anew — whether through new perspectives, ideas, experiences, vocations, or life trajectories. Each new creation brings energy and focus, and compels us forward.

This drive has been given a variety of names throughout history. Schopenhauer (1818) called it the Will to Live, the incessant drive to survive. Later, Nietzsche (1901) reconceptualised it as the Will to Power, the drive to grow, expand, and reach heights of greatness. Maslow (1954) described this force within his Hierarchy of Needs, whose zenith was a state of self-actualisation, and later, he expanded it to ‘self-transcendence’, the act of surpassing the ego (Kaufman, S.B. 2020). Jung (1966) named it individuation — nature’s guiding process of growth into mature Selfhood. Religions symbolise the goal of this drive as enlightenment, divine union, heaven, or resurrection, while Gnostics saw it as the ‘divine spark’ within that seeks liberation from a bodily prison (Robinson 1990). Kierkegaard (1849) depicted this inner drive as a movement from outwardness (aesthetic) to inwardness (subjectivity), in search of truth. More recently, physicist Tom Campbell (2003) called it the ‘Fundamental Process’ of evolution, whose goal is to lower entropy. In his book Gods and Diseases: Making Sense of Our Physical and Mental Wellbeing, the Australian scholar David Tacey argues that the drive for transformation emanates from a primordial unconscious realm of the psyche, which recognises the necessity for internal renewal, where something must perish to allow for the emergence of a more profound life (Tacey, 2013, p.162). This drive manifests in a variety of ways, such as in our human desire to ‘know’, leading to philosophy, medicine, thearts, and science.

In practice, the manifestation of this drive is a struggle. It plagues us into submission, often manifesting as depression and alienation from life. These trials are depicted in the myths, legends, and stories that represent an obstacle that must be overcome — a dragon fought, a holy relic returned to its proper place, or a maiden rescued. Such stories represent the intuition of something profound awaiting us, but one that requires courage and resilience until a new inner strength is discovered. But to succeed, we must grow, adapt, and find creative solutions to overcoming our insecurities.

The Creative Instinct

The creative instinct emerges quietly at first — as a new idea, a new approach, an imagined vision, or someone appearing in our life at the right time. It takes courage and faith to follow it and bring it to fruition, but its reward is a renewed sense of being, a newly uncovered ability, and a new sense of purpose. We first imagine, then struggle with the idea, and hopefully, bring it into form. This process follows a well-documented cycle of confrontation, adaptation, and renewal. This is ritual process.

Ritual process means “a recurring pattern that leads to deep and lasting change”, and is the core of many religious rituals, therapies, and transformative experiences. But this process isn’t limited to ritual; it is embedded in the very nature of creative practice — it’s how we create and is mirrored in the way life itself creates. Only through the struggle of trying to manifest an idea into form do we have the ability to create something meaningful for us and others. Hence, the creative drive is intricately linked to ritual process, which is a mirror of the drive for life itself — they are different sides of the same coin. Let’s examine ritual process further to understand how it manifests as creative practice.

What is Ritual Process?

Ritual process was first defined by Arnold van Gennep in his book ‘Rites of Passage’ (1909) and later elaborated by Victor Turner (1969). Turner outlined a three-stage ritual process that involves the crossing of two thresholds. The first threshold entails being flung into a new experience that introduces an ordeal. The second threshold is when a resolution is found and embodied. Turner found that ritual process appears in modern forms of theatre, which he described in his book “From Ritual to Theatre” (1982). Here, he argues that ritual process has migrated into modern secular societies in new ways and with differing qualities. In the book “The Archetype of Initiation”, the Jungian psychologist Robert L. Moore (2001, p.38-70) describes ritual process as archetypal and initiatory because it’s a pattern that emerges from the psyche and seeks the alteration of identity.

In traditional rituals, ritual process is presented as a movement from ‘ordinary’ to ‘sacred’ space, often through a metaphoric underworld or secret chamber from which one reemerges transformed (Moore 2001, p.39). Preceding Moore, Carl Jung believed this three-part form wasn’t just cultural, but psychological, wired into the very fabric of each human being (1959, p.39). Each culture interprets this inner process in its own way, presenting it within its rituals, myths, and legends. This cross-cultural feature was outlined by Joseph Campbell in “A Hero with a Thousand Faces” (1949), which describes the varying forms of ritual process across time and culture. Robert Moore (2001) expands on this idea, showing how ritual process appears across contexts, disciplines, and settings — from life events and tribal rituals, to psychotherapy and religion, to works of philosophy, psychology, art, and literature. Ritual process emerges when restlessness coerces us into change and development. It follows a set of clear and definable stages.

Stage One: Challenge and Restlessness

The ritual pattern starts by introducing a crisis, where our old world starts to deteriorate and we feel an urge for change (Moore 2001, p.39). This may be triggered by an external event, such as a divorce or job loss, which forces us to seek relief through various means such as therapy, a change of vocation, or spiritual seeking. As we are challenged, our previous identity is threatened. It destabilises our persona — the social mask we display to the world — and provides a space for change to occur.

Stage 2: Dismantled and Deconstructed

The second stage of ritual process is the ordeal. This stage challenges us to relinquish our old ways and seek new ways of acting and thinking. We may endure a grief process as our old self no longer resonates with an emerging identity. Practically, this may appear as facing unemployment, dealing with repressed emotions or neurosis, or entering new communities where we submit to new knowledge. It is a transitional state, where we are not who we were, but still haven’t moved into a new identity.

Stage 3: Reintegration and Renewal

In this final phase, we learn to adapt to our new situation. We have acquired new skills, developed new attitudes, and are empowered with a new creativity or sense of service. We re-enter life, but are changed. Our identity has been permanently altered and a new sense of personal status and power is established. We are no longer who we were, as we come to accept a new life and role.

Elements of Ritual Process — the Liminal and Liminoid / Flow and Communitas

Turner (1982, p.35-40) distinguishes between ritual processes for tribal and modern secular cultures, suggesting that they emerge in altered form within modern society. Traditional societies incorporate ritual process into their rituals to produce liminality, where liberation from social constraints and communion with higher forces are sought. These practices are preserved and formalised within culture, and are initiatory, evoking personal and social change. By contrast, liminoidprocesses are those found in secular modern societies when ritual process has been relocated into forms of play, leisure, arts, and therapy. Unlike tribal rituals, they are not forced upon us, but are sought out, paid for, and are more individualistic than collective tribal rites (Turner, 1982, p.55).

The liminoid is an urban approach to dealing with our drive for change, growth, and development in secular societies that lack formalised ritual processes. Whereas liminality has a collective quality, seen in sects, religions, and secret societies where communion with a higher order is required, the liminoid is more individualistic, guiding personal experiences that don’t necessarily require social feeling (Turner 1982, p.55).

Although, the line between liminal and liminoid is blurred, and can often cross over. For example, an experience can be liminoid (voluntary, contemporary, creative, and artistic) but still produce liminal states (threshold crossing, participation, identity suspension, collective feeling, uncertainty, chaos). When this occurs, the activity appears ritualistic as it aligns with ritual process.

Both liminal and liminoid spaces are responses to an inner desire for transformation, but the liminoid brings temporary nourishment rather than permanent transformation (Moore, 2001, p.51). It manifests through ‘baby steps’, rather than as sanctioned rites of passage as seen in tribal cultures.

Another way to conceive of the distinction between liminoid and liminal states is by their ability to manifest felt experiences of flow and communitas. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (1990) coined the term flow to describe a psychological state of ego-lessness, and the merging of action and awareness in the individual during episodes of directed work or play. It occurs during music-making, thrill-seeking, writing, or sport, and is an individual psychological state — creative, immersive, and purposeful.

On the other hand, communitas is a term developed by Turner (1982, p.47) to describe a feeling of camaraderie and connection beyond racial, social, and cultural roles. This often emerges through catastrophes, pilgrimages, or rock concerts, when we loosen focus on ourselves and direct it outwards, allowing deep connection with others to emerge. Communitas has a flow quality but is primarily a socio-relational state, occurring between individuals where a feeling of sharedness emerges (Turner 1982, p.58). Both flow and communitas can appear together, one highlighting the individual psychological experience, while the latter describes the feeling that emerges when groups synchronise, connect, and feel unity. Both the liminoid and liminal can produce either state, but the liminal is more prone to communitas because of its emphasis on social relationship. Furthermore, while ritual process is necessary for liminality, the same is not necessarily the case for the liminoid, which uses aspects of ritual process but often without the social transformation goal.

Creativity as Ritual Process

Creative practices like music, art, and dance enable flow and communitas to emerge, and when mixed with ritual process, can provide the opportunity for deep feeling and lasting social change. I see this in my own experiences with creativity.

Flow experiences typically occur when I’m composing music, when I lose self-consciousness and enter a profound state of flow. In this flow state, new ideas emerge with the distinct quality of insight and deep creativity. Time is altered during these phases, with long periods feeling like only brief moments. During live performance, flow results in immersion, loss of ego, and freedom of expression. It is a personal feeling that is not specifically dependent on the audience.

In certain intimate live performances — when conditions are right — a sense of communitas may appear. When this occurs, I feel connection to others, unity, and group harmony. People smile, acknowledge each other, and a palpable energy rises to meet the moment. Often, this has a spiritual quality because the group energy entails that something larger than the individual is present. These experiences are life-changing and life-affirming, altering my perception of interrelatedness and providing meaning and purpose.

These moments of communitas within a secular setting show a blurring of the boundary between liminal and liminoid. The liminoid is voluntary, contemporary, artistic, leisure-based, and outside formal social obligation, but it crosses over into the liminal when suspension of ordinary identity, feelings of vulnerability, threshold crossing, altered social relations, collective participation, experienced transformation, and changed perception are experienced. The distinction is that classical liminality is structurally embedded within the three-stage rite of passage process, whereas liminoid phenomena may selectively reproduce or evoke aspects of this ritual structure without fully institutionalising it.

Music Workshops as Initiatory

Creative practice can function as a liminoid environment that evokes ritual structure leading to experiences of flow and communitas. While not formal ritual traditions, they may carry the patterns of ritual process that lead to significant change. In order for this to occur, Moore (2001, p.108-111) suggests three necessary conditions. These are submission, containment, and enactment.

·      Submission is necessary to allow ritual process to properly function. It enables the loosening of one’s previous identity in preparation for change.

In my music workshops, submission occurs when a participant is led into new musical activities, such as playing percussion, creating a melody, or experimenting with a synthesiser. This can be a scary experience, requiring them to trust in the process while overcoming feelings of insecurity, self-consciousness, or embarrassment.

• Containment is the structure necessary for ritual process to prosper. This includes rules of engagement, managing expectations, and leadership. On this last element, Moore (2001, p.51) strongly advocates for a guide who knows the terrain and can safely guide one through the ritual process.

In my music workshops, the workshop leader guides participants through the process of creation, ensuring each stage aligns with goals of group harmony, experimentation, and music creation. The workshop structure dictates the terms for ritual process to emerge. It involves a three-stage phase of separation from a previous mood, a period of exploration and experimentation, and the creation of a new work. The process uses composition, recording, arranging, and reflection to transform a creative idea into a musical artefact — a transition that mirrors the change occurring in the participant. It requires collective participation in the production of something bigger than themselves — a song — which forces a focus on social dynamics and thus enhances the potential for communitas.

• Enactment is where one engages with a new behaviour or attitude to be integrated (Moore 2001, p.111).

In my workshops, participants submit to a process that affirms they are innately creative — even if they have no musical experience. They use rhythm, sound, and studio tools to explore their creative impulse without focusing on technical mastery, but rather on intent, instinct, and inspiration. Through guided experimentation and exploration with rhythm and simple technologies, they come to realise certain innate creative traits, and gain confidence in applying them. Afterwards, they often claim a newfound desire to create, to pick up an old instrument, or to renew a creative talent from childhood. The workshop appears to give them the courage to explore previously dormant, rejected, or misunderstood aspects of Self.

Creativity and Ritual Process

In combination with submission, containment, and enactment, the integration of a three-stage ritual process moves a liminoid experience into one that has the potential for liminality — to change one’s perception of oneself and one's social context. This underlying ritual process leads to transformation and moves workshops from individual to collective experiences, from creating flow to encouraging states of communitas. As discussed, these follow a three-stage process, which appears in the following specific context during my workshops.

Stage One: Separation from Ordinary Consciousness

The first stage of the workshop consists of moving one away from the concerns of everyday life. To do this, we use music, directed attention, immersive curated space, and guidance to shift participants’ mood and attitude in alignment with workshop goals. This gives permission for people to open themselves up to a new experience and to feel free from judgment and fear. An understanding of energy and pace is necessary to move the workshop at a speed which stops people from overthinking, inspires creativity, and focuses on doing.

Stage Two: Experimentation and Expression

Next, the workshop creates the conditions for freedom of expression and experimentation by encouraging playfulness with rhythm, instruments, and music technologies. Participants may try out new ideas, experiment with creative tools and technologies, and play simple rhythms. The focus isn’t on technical mastery but on playful experimentation, under the assumption that each person has a creative instinct and can manifest it in a unique way. Group participation, collaboration, and development are facilitated by recording ideas progressively, so that each idea contributes to a larger complexity, creating a cumulative process of creation. It is a bottom-up rather than top-down approach, where rhythm is the foundation for composition rather than lyric or melody. Using this approach, people can immediately contribute and feel a sense of creativity with minimal music experience. The process and its focus on simple rhythmic elements provide immediate immersion and increases confidence and trust.

Stage Three: Reintegration

Once the song is completed within an allocated timeframe, participants listen to their creation. This completes the cycle and offers the opportunity for participants to reflect on the process. Many are amazed that they were able to create something meaningful. They may have discovered a new ability, experienced a different aspect of self, or been relieved of tension or alienation. For many, it satisfies the urge to create, connect, and experience creativity. For others, it may lead to a new life pathway, the emergence of new talents, and provides a newfound confidence. The workshop changes them when they are able to consider a new part of their identity, a process which is expansive and transformative.

In Closing

Creative practices can contribute to altered states of flow, and even deeper experiences of social harmony, when they abide by ritual processes of separation, experimentation, and reintegration. This three-stage process produces liminality, where new identities, talents, and creative abilities can emerge. Flow is a response to individual immersion in creative practice, which is enhanced into communitas when a shared feeling of group unity and harmony is achieved. Creative practices, like music workshops, provide the structure for such experiences when they incorporate submission, containment, and enactment within ritual process. Such liminoid experiences are voluntary and secular, distinct from formalised processes of tribal rituals, but still hold the capacity for meaningful transformation. They identify and encourage a creative instinct, but can lead to profound experiences that provide purpose, alter one’s life path, and expand social identities.

References

Campbell, J. (2008) The Hero with a Thousand Faces. 3rd edn. Novato, CA: New World Library. (Originally published 1949).

Campbell, T. (2003) My Big TOE: Awakening. Huntsville, AL: Lightning Strike Books.

Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1990) Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience. New York: Harper & Row.

Jung, C.G. (1966) Two Essays on Analytical Psychology. Translated by R.F.C. Hull. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. (Originally published 1928)

Jung, C.G., (1959), The archetypes and the Collective Unconscious. Routledge, Oxfordshire,

Kaufman, S.B. (2020) Transcend: The New Science of Self-Actualization. New York: TarcherPerigee.

Kierkegaard, S. (1941) The Sickness Unto Death. Translated by W. Lowrie. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. (Originally published 1849).

Maslow, A.H. (1954) Motivation and Personality. New York: Harper & Brothers. (Originally published 1954).

Moore, R.L. (2001) The Archetype of Initiation: Sacred Space, Ritual Process, and Personal Transformation. Bloomington, IN: Xlibris Corporation.

Nietzsche, F. (1968) The Will to Power. Translated by W. Kaufmann and R.J. Hollingdale. New York: Vintage Books. (Originally published posthumously in 1901)

Robinson, J.M. (ed.) (1990) The Nag Hammadi Library. 3rd rev. edn. San Francisco: HarperCollins.Routledge, Oxfordshire, UK

Schopenhauer, A. (1969) The World as Will and Representation. Translated by E.F.J. Payne. New York: Dover Publications. (Originally published 1818)

Tacey, D., (2013). Gods and diseases: Making Sense of Our Physical and Mental Wellbeing.

Turner, V. (1969) The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure. Chicago: Aldine Publishing.

Turner, V. (1982) From Ritual to Theatre: The Human Seriousness of Play. New York: Performing Arts Journal Publications.UK, 2014

Van Gennep, A. (1960) The Rites of Passage. Translated by M.B. Vizedom and G.L. Caffee. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. (Originally published 1909).