I’m an even worse Pagan than I was a Catholic.

Many paths lead to the sacred circle –Unknown

Not all who Wander are lost. –J.R.R. Tolkien

I woke up in a funk. The grey light that filtered through the windows made a very clear statement that repeated itself in my mood, in my thoughts, and in my physical state. My boyfriend tried to make me feel better, and at least, once I made it past the first fifteen minutes of consciousness, I was actually able to keep up with civil conversation and interaction. I made myself agree to going out to breakfast, and genuinely felt like being in the land of the living by the time we had finished and decided to go get coffee. Tim ordered me to go spend time with Auriel, so after a couple of (bad) games of spades, I left the Beehive to meet her and we went out for a few hours of girly time.

Despite feeling less like death’s trophy-wife wraith than when I had woken up, I still had a terrible feeling of unbalance. I mean this in the most all-encompassing way possible. I described it to Rel as though "Mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually all aspects of myse;f have been overwhelmed by the Mercurial Pittsburgh Grey." From there the conversation strolled down the usual path of weather influencing mood – meditation not being utilized -okay, no real spiritual practice ensuing – we need to get together for the Sabbats. Well, as it turns out, Beltain falls early this year. Today, in fact. I don’t adhere fully to the Wiccan religion, however, I do find that the wheel of the year is quite appropriate for how I do practice, and the most meaningful sort of holiday schedule/content from any of the paths I have studied. It actually bothers me that these holidays sneak up on me like this.

I want to celebrate my ties to the earth which I am a part of, yet I never manage to get myself prepared to do so. Even without, I almost never miss a holiday. Usually, when the sun is setting, I discover it was a Sabbat, and that even without realizing, I broke bread with like-minded spirits, and made some gesture through my actions following the significance of the holiday. Last year, when the summer solstice suprized us, my then extensive group of close friends were sitting on my front porch, sharing a bottle of wine and a loaf of round-bread with the neighbor’s cat and watching the sun go down in an unplanned moment of silence. Simultaneously, we stopped talking when the bottom of the sun first touched the tree-line. When dark fell as the red sun slipped below the trees on the horizon, the silence was broken by the words "Hey, guys. I just realized. It’s the summer solstice tonight." No one else had known.

Auriel and I shared a bagel today when we went out for coffee, so my long standing tradition of breaking bread without realizing continues, but perhaps half of this grey that washes my body, mind, and soul is just the knowledge that here is something that means a lot to me, and yet I cannot find the dedication within myself to be the person I consider myself.

Maybe I sould stop whining about it and change.