It’s been a month or two, but I finally lit a candle for the gods yesterday for Noumenia. I didn’t do the whole ritual, but at least I made an effort.
August 1st, Lammas, is my anniversary. It’s the first ritual I remember performing as a Pagan and I’ve used it as my anniversary for fourteen years now. My religion is older than my kiddo but I still feel like such a novice. Most of those years probably had only one or two rituals done and long, long stretches of time where nothing was done. I need to remember, however, that just because I don’t always do the magical side of my religion doesn’t mean I’m not a Pagan.
To me, Paganism is a religion. I’ve always held the gods in my heart and head. I feel that jumping up and down at the wonder of a rainbow or the electric green of spring is an acceptable form of worship. I see the wonder of the world around me, I pick up trash and use reusable things, I try to walk my talk, and that makes me a Pagan, not just how well versed I am in casting a circle.
In this new month, as the moon grows and changes overhead, I am not going to devote myself to my path or try to get back into it. I am going to remember that this is my path. No matter where my feet lead me or how many rituals I miss, I am still a Pagan and the gods surround me.