Yesterday, in what might have been an otherwise nice Samhain ritual, my offerings were not accepted for the second time. You might remember the first time, which I moved past in the spirrit of overlooking the hurt and making it a learning experience.

To be fair, I’d begun to think about whether I was with the right hearth culture. It didn’t feel like I was making a connection with Cernunnos at all and I couldn’t tell if that was because I’ve hurt my foot and run in the woods less, or because it wasn’t meant to happen.

While it remained easy to communicate with (to, really) my ancestors during my daily devotions, I even found myself struggling to reach out to Brigid.

And then came the omens.

I’d been asking the Kindred for an omen each day, and taking the omen from my tarot deck. The omes I had been getting all referred to moving on, to accepting change, to not sticking with the old for familiarity’s sake (I wish I’d written these down). I really began to wonder if I should quit one of the jobs I didn’t like.

Then, after passing an exam, I had time to start learning a foreign language. I just assumed it was going to be Irish, so I could practice it in front of the altar every day.

I hated the Irish lessons on Duolingo.

I resolved that, if the Kindred accepted my offering this time, I would ask more explicitly if I were being encouraged to find a hearth culture that better fits with me.

Three times the Kindred refused to accept my offerings yesterday. And I was so forward to ask the question, anyway, and I got the High Priest, inverted.

I’ve been puzzling that, I can tell you.

So, before I re-arrange my altar, I have been thinking about how to make one last offering to the gods currently on my altar. And, I have to think about what it all means, where I’m turning now. I don’t feel especially adrift — the connection wasn’t that great — I feel more like I had maybe focused a lot of energy into something that seemed so promising, and now I regret that I didn’t invest it into a connection with the ground and spirits of place. Like when a relationship ends and you realize that you wasted a lot of time that could have been invested in your friends.

Now, I’m in between. I don’t know what my next steps forward will be.

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