Today I sat down to write a post about Lughnasadh, but all that came out were garbled and tangled thoughts – disjointed and unclear.
I wrote about my growing dissatisfaction with my Sabbat rituals, and my Wheel of the Year celebrations as a whole.
I wrote about how these twelve months have been more challenging, frustrating, and confusing than any in my life previously.
And I wrote about how my desire for authenticity and efficacy has caused me to throw out original plan of using the same rituals for the Sabbats every year.
The truth is, I have nothing to say about Lughnasadh this year. I feel that tonight, the eve of the first day of August and the night of a blue moon, would be the most suitable to do ritual. But I feel no desire to do so. I am not sure I will feel any desire to do so in four or five days, either.
In short: my spiritual practice as it currently stands is failing me. It is not a strong thread for me to grasp in difficult times. It has become confused and disjointed, to the point where I feel I need a certain amount of extra energy in order to complete the basics tasks I set myself in it.
It has been a long while – perhaps a year – since I really felt the power of a Sabbat. It’s been a long time since I was excited for ritual, excited to prepare. I go through the motions because I know it’s important to me. I know that if I don’t, I will lose touch with who I am entirely.
But I’ve realised that my practice needs a solid structure. It needs exactly what I set out to create three years ago. I told myself that doing the same ritual again and again, returning to the same script every year, was boring and unimaginative. I told myself that pushing my boundaries would be more rewarding. But actually, I just badly need to get back to basics.
My faith in a lot of things has had a beating this year. But you know what is constant and unquestionable? The Earth. Its cycles. The beauty of Cosmos and the incredible constant creativity of it.
Everything else falls away when I’m uncertain, when I’m exhausted, when I’m sad or anxious. But the reality of this earth I stand on is always there waiting for me. I need no faith to believe in it, to revere it, to celebrate it.
So that’s what I’m going to do.