Earlier it was a desire to learn some way, any adequate way to open the eye, to properly exist. Then, it became a basic happiness that sustained itself because the vision that came was lasting.
There was never ritual, there were never gongs.
When She called, it was also a call to another way of seeing, one that had been precluded due to natural affection for a way of seeing. There is nothing to be made too much of.
It might be the opiate of the masses; perhaps that is why the feeling is so heady. If one is always an individual, to climb it with so many other, such different others, is an education in itself. For most it may be faith, in which case it should not be that it can merely move mountains but also inspire those otherwise unlikely to climb steep inclines that will not relent. For others, it could be that same old pull towards sight.
The dark whispered once or twice to remind that vision comes to those who have wanted to see, unhappy with the previous groping. The darkness was a brief yet real whisper of something ancient and malevolent. The pull consumed it with its delight.
The art will tell you what you should look for to find when one would climb, be called. Drig Dasha of the initiation or such, something in the annual horoscopy to show the event, in the Vimshamsha.