Friday, June 21, 2013

Midsummer Motivation



For me, Midsummer is an oasis of magic in an otherwise mundane time of year.  As the days grow longer, and summer arrives, life becomes full of "what must get done," all of the everyday things which keep our mundane worlds turning--bills, chores, work.  We begin to lose the drive to do "what ought to be done" in our spiritual lives--meditation, ceremony, giving thanks.  Midsummer reminds us to be Pagan.

So whether you are planning on a wild Litha bonfire (mine has been rained out sadly) with summer mead and beer, or simply casting a circle in the Moon Garden and watching for fairies by candlelight on this shortest night of the year,  the very act of acknowledging Midsummer brings us closer to nature.

Saturday, June 15, 2013

The Magickal Doldrums



Last night, as I was sitting outside watching the sun set and listening to my world settle down for the day, I realized that I had absolutely no idea what phase the moon was in.  Not only that, but I don't think I've used an altar or given thanks for over a month, and the only incense I've burned lately is the citronella scented mosquito repellent incense in the garden.  And I'm fairly certain that while cooking (normally a spiritual act for me) I've only stirred liquids deosil out of habit, and not with any magical intent.

I go through this every year.  Right around late spring, early summer, I hit a spiritual lull.  Because the spring festivals Imbolc and Beltane are so much less...encompassing...than the autumn/winter festivals, I begin to wallow in the mundane and forget the magical.  With work and school and family, it becomes easy to put off something which, on the surface, seems a waste of time, but which in reality is the most important thing I can do.  I'm becoming the pagan equivalent to a Christmas/Easter Christian--one who only shows up to church for the big masses.  Dare I say it?  A Halloween Witch.

Fortunately this year the realization has hit before the Summer Solstice.  Midsummer, when nature is blooming violently around me, is a great time to get back into the metaphysical swing of things.  It's time to drag my happy pagan ass out of the air-conditioned comfort of the house and away from the computer, the television and the washing machine.  It's time to head back outside, into the garden and into the light.  I have to remind myself to be part of the world and not apart from it.  Still, this would be more palatable if it wasn't 80 degrees Fahrenheit in the mornings.