So, Lammas was to be the second ritual in my Dedicant’s Path work. That didn’t work out. In fact, I don’t know when I’ll be able to have a ritual on the first of August: that’s traditionally when my whole family gets together.
Some of my siblings know that I’m heading down this path, but my conservative parents certainly don’t. And, considering how frustrated my older sister is at her daughter’s interest in queer rights, I don’t think she’d welcome the idea of discussions about paganism.
And that’s okay. I’m okay with my family and who they are. I’ll have to start revolving to sneak away or something.
The thing is, when I wanted to get away this year to get down to the creek and praise the spirit of the creek or the Earth Mother, I always got someone interested in tagging along. After all, we don’t see each other often, so we try to maximize contact when we do.
My praises to the Earth Mother, my honoring of the spirits of the place were all either silent (in my head) or mumbled at a volume that wouldn’t attract attention from people fifty yards away.
My greatest success in the trip home — from a pagan point of view — was engaging two of my siblings in a discussion about the fact that it was Lammas, that it was a good time to appreciate hard work coming to fruition. (Such as, I should have added, the hard work of organizing a family reunion.)
Now, hoever, I’m home and it’s time to focus on living — and not just believing — my paganism. It won’t be easy to get into the routine that had barely been established when I left.