Please forgive me the terrible, terrible pun of a title. I’m not really sorry, even though I recognize that I should be.
I’ve had less to say on this forum lately, but that’s not for lack of things going on. I’m once again in my more extroverted time of the year where most of my energy gets directed to the garden and stock and festivals and other outside-of-me places. This is the time of year when my daily practice begins to look totally lazy and uninspired compared to a lot of what gets posted about online.
And that’s a perfectly OK thing. Stifle your squawks of horror.
This is the time of year when I get out and see my gods and spirits in the garden and fields and rivers and stars and sun and moon. This is the time of year when I greet dawn and blow a kiss to the moon and whisper encouragement to the seedlings and give thanks in song and libation for the healthy goat-kids. This is the time of year when my paganism becomes a get-up-and-go-live kind of paganism, instead of a rituals and inside altar focused paganism. There is absolutely nothing wrong with either method. I embrace both (and there are probably many more ways these are just the two that I flow between) because my lifestyle undergoes such a drastic seasonal shift.
I walk in accordance with the seasons and speak to my gods and spirits each in their own place and season.
Fortunately for me, I live in a temperate climate that is pretty close to the overarching structure of holy days imposed by some of the more vocal units of the pagan confederacy. Yes, confederacy- it’s really not a community if we’re being honest with ourselves. But that’s a different conversation.
So what changes? A lot, actually.
Instead of the morning workout I spend more time outside working on one project or another around the farm. I’ve gotten the small shed cleaned out and all of the garden lots worked up once- some of them planted with early crops already. Finishing mom’s frog pond is the next big one, followed by building a hay crib and another large shed. Once summer really starts cooking I’ll have to grub out one of the springs again. It’s enough labor to nullify any wintertime need for the gym, especially since I prefer to work with hand tools whenever feasible. The use of hand rather than power tools becomes an act of meditation not only for the repetitive nature of some of the work but because I get to be totally aware of the physical body in which I am currently incarnate and how that body is tied to, affected by, and can affect the world around it. Sweat and sunburn are sacred things in my world-view.
I sing more. I’m less sure of why this changes other than as a symptom of the overall extroversion of energy during the lighter half of the year. The goats love to be sung to, and there are some songbirds and a few of the crows (technically also songbirds but… crows) that will stop by and listen. My voice has always held my strongest connection to magic and part of this season is that outward-facing magic.
It’s festival season! Due to the cost of fuel and my own current financial situation (for the record, you can in fact live a pretty ok life below poverty level IF you’re willing to accept some lifestyle changes) I haven’t seen much of my Virginia or Baltimore pagan friends. This time of year is what I’ve been saving up for, however, so we can party and be awesome together. I can’t wait!
Unfortunately not all of the changes are good and I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge that fact. My ability to make my inner dialogue shut up and focus has a tendency to go flying out the window. I tend to compose much less poetry this time of year. Farmer’s tan.
Overall you might say that I become more paganus and less witch/mystic/woo. It’s a seasonal shift and it happens every year, although I have not always been good at recognizing it.
So why am I even bothering to post all of this? Partly as an explanation for what surely appears to be slacking off, but also because I think the confederacy could use the reminder that there are many and widely varied ways to go about doing whatever this delightfully chaotic thing is that we do. Not that I really expect anyone to read this- I’m in kind of a tiny dark corner of the internet, after all. Whatever it is that you do- go do it. Go do it with joy and, pardon the repeat of the terrible, terrible pun, a spring in your step.