Personal Paganism

I don't practice a great deal of formal ritual. It seems I'm always meaning to do a little rite or some spellwork at the full moon, but most often it ends up being no more than a thoughtful gaze into its face, its position in the sky.

I found this on Pinterest a while ago (a phrase I use embarrassingly often). I've found it an excellent guide to both understanding the concept of magic and the steps required to manifest it. It's psychology - how to turn belief into reality.

It's in the everyday that ritual becomes a habit, and it's this that I want to work on this year. Magic, spellwork: these aren't particularly mystical things, in my view. It's simply an effort to focus the power of one's own will and the energy of natural objects to bring a desire to fruition.

I suppose that concept is mystical, actually. At the heart of my paganism is the belief that the world itself is a divine thing, alive in its own right. The creatures we share it with, the plants, the very stones that comprise the land we live on, are alight with their own energy.

Over thousands of years, people of all cultures have learned the physical properties of the natural world; but in addition, we have seen the symbolism of objects and plants as well. Spellwork is simply the manifestation of these beliefs, the attempt to bring them to the forefront.

Bringing this into daily life usually ends up being something I do outside. One little spell I like to do is when taking a walk: pick up a leaf, hold it in my palm as I think about something I want to happen, and toss it into a stream or into the air, sending that energy and intention for my need into the world.

I am a fairly avid cook, and I mean to incorporate more magical intention in my cooking. The selection and preparation of ingredients, the thoughtful consideration of herbs, the careful use of fire and water in the cooking process, are magic in themselves. It's all about intention.

I Am In Them

Edvard Munch, "Girl Looking Out the Window," 1893

With the new year, come resolutions.

Not everyone does this, I've found, but I do. In fact, I usually begin compiling my resolutions at my birthday, in early December, when another year has truly passed. December's a difficult month to institute disciplinary changes, though, so, like most, I start in January. 

I think resolutions are so hard because they require daily commitment. Over and over again, choosing to stay true to your resolve. Since resolutions are usually painful changes, it's very difficult to make this commitment, day after day. It's the reason most of us fail, the reason the gyms go back to their normal crowds in mid-February or so.

My method last year was the most successful I've ever used, so I'm using the same strategy this year. I'm dividing my life into the areas in which I want to make changes and improvements: physical, mental, spiritual, emotional. The physical list is always the longest and the hardest to stick to, but last year I managed to lose twenty pounds and keep it off. It wasn't the forty I wanted to lose, but it was a good start and this years' resolution will be to finish the job. 

Only the job is never finished, is it? There's never a place where you're just - done. I have to eat right, every day. I have to exercise, every day. And every day simply doesn't happen. The key, I think, is to not let one bad day - or even one bad week - derail the effort completely. Scarlett had it right: tomorrow is another day. 

The spiritual resolution is what I'll be focusing on here. Developing a daily practice of rituals, prayers, spells - to do every day those things I am sporadic with now. With that in mind, I want to find a quote, spell, piece of folklore, or some other lesson to share every day. 

Today I'd like to share a quote from Edvard Munch. He's most famous for his painting "The Scream." It sums up quite well what I think is the likely meaning of "eternal life." 

I don't think there's much consensus on what Pagans believe about the afterlife. Reincarnation seems to be a popular theory, and it certainly makes sense when one looks at the world and how it functions. We are part of this organism called the Earth; from her we were born and to her we will return. But what of our souls, the anima that makes us individuals? Does it linger on? 

I have no idea.