You actually get two days, this time, as they’re closely interconnected.
Friday:
5:45 : Get up. Morning computer time, devotional work, making of tea.
7:10 : Leave for work. Work until 4pm.
4:00: Drive to a friend’s house to walk. Get told at a stoplight that my back right tire has gone flat. Limp up to her house (a mile or so) to change it. Get lucky - her husband is working from home, and able to come out and help change it. (It was about 10 degrees out, and while I know the theory, I’ve never actually changed a tire before.)
5:30: Drive carefully up to our covenstead on the donut tire to be part of the 2nd degree elevation ritual for a dear friend and covenmate. The last time my HPS and HP did this ritual was my elevation over 2 years ago. We have a fantastic time, and everything goes beautifully, despite a little last-minute scrambling.
9:30: Finish ritual (we started at 7) and take off for the celebratory food part of the evening, at Ruby Tuesday’s, with other people not at the ritual. (I incidentally recommend their strawberry lemonade.)
11:30: Leave there, drive carefully home. Make online appointment with my car dealership for 8:15 using their online automated system.
12:30: Actually go to sleep.
Saturday:
7:20 : Get up, rapidly pack everything I need for the day (ritual gear, ritual clothing, bread for the ritual, and a few other things) and head out carefully to the dealership (which is a 20 minute drive.)
8:15: Explain things to the dealership and go off to read in the waiting room.
9:45: They’re done with everything and send me on the way with a repaired tire, two other small (and cheap!) fixes, and the oil change and new filter I was due for. More money than I really wanted to spend, but far less than it could have been.
9:50: Go have brunch/breakfast at Perkins, because I know I won’t be eating again until after ritual in the evening, and something substantial is called for.
11:00 Arrive at the January temporary librarian job (I’ve been working at the school I got my MLIS degree at on Monday and Tuesday evenings, and Saturday and Sunday 12-5 filling in for a librarian who was out of the country teaching in January.) Catch up on email and online conversations upstairs at a free computer.
12:00: Head downstairs and go to work at the reference desk. Develop a splitting headache which is helped a little by going and getting water, but not as much as I’d like.
4:20: The friend I’m driving up to ritual shows up after busing over to the school. I get her to go get me another drink, and she hangs out and reads in the library until I’m done.
5:00: Get in the car, drive to the covenstead.
5:30: Arrive at the covenstead for full moon ritual. Did I mention that I’m priestessing and that gather time was 5pm? (They knew I’d be showing up as soon as I finished work and got up there, obviously.)
Peel out of the winter outerwear, drop the required items for this ritual in the assigned baskets, change rapidly into ritual dress and jewelry, take 30 seconds to ground and center, and head downstairs to check with my priest for the evening and run through any last minute changes with the person who wrote the ritual. We do that.
6:00: We’re in ritual. It’s fantastic - everything goes very smoothly, we pick up cues, and the people trying out new roles do an amazing job.
8:45: We finish ritual (it was quite long: we were doing oracular work). We head upstairs, grab food, and settle down for a little bit to hang out and socialise.
9:20: The friend I drove and I head out for the other party we need to get to (a 25th wedding anniversary for a very dear friend of hers, and a friend of mine) Informal party, but it was important that she go, and I wanted to.
10:45: Leave that party, I drop my friend at home, and go home and fall over.
Sunday, thankfully, was a little more peaceful: I slept late, got up around 9, got myself off to work from 12-5, and then met up with friends for the season premiere of Torchwood on Tivo, and pizza, and other goodnesses.
So, Wednesday night, I showed up at my friend L’s house, and in the hour before we left for our evening meeting, we came up with a plan.
Our basic outline:
We currently have 6 rituals planned out through Beltane:
- February 16th : A full moon
- March 8th: A tradition specific one
- March 20th: Combined spring equinox (the 19th) and full moon (the 21st)
- April 5th: A new moon
- May 3rd: Beltane
I’m going to stop attending rituals with my current group on March 7th, but L’s going to continue ritual with them for the time being, so part of our scheduling is about not requiring her to be in two places at the same time.
We also need to schedule an evening of prep work for the March 8th ritual: this may not be a full blown ritual set-up, though.
Our goals:
Our immediate goals look something like this:
Goal 1) A regular ritual cycle.
We’re eventually aiming for Sabbats, full moons, and some sort of shared practice or focus for new moons (but not necessarily a group ritual or even getting together.) You’ll notice that this isn’t there yet. That’s because of goal 2.
Goal 2) Not overwhelming ourselves.
We want time to think about each ritual, and to have time to deconstruct and fiddle and play with things in the planning stages. (Plus, we’re starting from scratch on these, in many ways.) We also are working around L’s ongoing commitments elsewhere.
Thus, we’re aiming at 1-2 rituals per month for the immediate future (and expecting we’ll be getting together for dinner to talk and plan more often.) The fact that the Sabbats and full moons are tending to line up close together in early 2008 doesn’t hurt here, actually (especially after avoiding whatever day the current group is scheduled for.)
Goal 3) To spend these rituals doing some work toward determining ongoing deity work.
Core discussions about the tradition have come down to the agreement that our initiatory deities should be the same, but that moons and Sabbats are open to other combinations than we currently work with. I am fond of those deities, but not particularly pulled towards them (and L feels the same way), so exploration seems in order.
Discussion and thought has lead us toward three potential pairs (possibly with a summer/winter model or exchange), and so our first four rituals are going to include work with each of them in turn. At that point, we’ll evaluate and see if there’s something we want to have turn into a longer-running set of work/exploration, or not.
Goal 4) To share ritual writing and responsibility for the time being.
Eventually, I’d like to go to a more complex model, but for two people, collaboration is great and in many ways, ideal. We are going to explore how 2 person rituals are different from rituals designed for 8-20 people (the sizes we have the most experience with.) and I expect to write quite a lot more about that as we try things out.
What’s after that?
I’m desperately hoping that I’ll have a good idea of long-term job choices by Beltane, in which case we can move forward with longer-term plans. We do not want to open up to other potential members, never mind potential students, until we’re sure I’m going to stay in the area.
If we don’t know where I’ll be by early April, we’ll schedule some more, and come up with some other things to try. (One we know we want to do, but that isn’t currently scheduled, is a Roman feast, complete with garum, or at least as close an approximation as we’re going to get.)
The thing we’re not worried about is seeing each other for discussion: I’ve ended up over there for dinner about every third week, easily, and it’s something we enjoy a tremendous amount. Or tea. Or walking. Or gardening, when it stops being winter.
In browsing today, I came across a link to a project where the author’s pulling together musical resources associated with particular deities: both devotional material, and songs that might remind one of a particular deity.
Their focus is Greek, Roman, and Egyptian, but there’s some nice ideas there.
I’ve had this post titled “Plan A and Plan B” sitting in my drafts folder for, oh, two weeks now. See, I’m not sure where I’m going to end up getting the professional library job I’m looking for currently - and the details of establishing a new group depend to some extent on whether I stay local to the Twin Cities (what I really want!) or not. So, let’s try a slightly different take.
While I’m figuring out the job thing, I need some plans.
Stopping before starting:
Real soon now, I am going to stop attending rituals with the group I’ve been with since 2001 (and from whom I’m hiving.) We’re still figuring out exactly when the break is going to be (and there’s no amazing urgency), but it’s likely that Imbolc will be my last ritual with the group for a while.
[Digression: Why a break? It's not being required of me, but I think it's a good idea. I think it's important for other people to move into the roles I've had, and for people to get used to me not being there: it's not a requirement.
How long? We're talking 6 months, with the idea that it may be flexible, depending on circumstance (and that I may be back for the two Sabbats that are on our list for joint rituals if I stay in the area: Litha and Samhain.) I'd also consider it for initiations if that were appropriate. End digression.]
Now through early February:
1) There’s one tradition-specific ritual that we do this time of year: I will be there for that. (Note: it’s going to be early March.)
2) I expect to attend my current group’s Imbolc (for various reasons, it’s a good starting point.)
3) I will do a ‘foundation of new group’ ritual. Possibly by myself, more likely with my current covenmate L, who is interested in ongoing work with me (assuming I stay local. Yes, we’ve worked this out with the current group.)
4) I will come up with a list of 4-6 things I’d like to do rituals relating to in the next 3-4 months, so we can see how things go. And we’ll look at rituals at which to do them.
5) Somewhere in here, I *will* get a job, at which point we figure out where we go from there.
The next steps?
1) Come up with that list.
2) Start doing stuff.
3) Have a vague idea of where I want plan A and B to go, so that when I know which it is, I can move forward on them without a lot of scrambling.
(Why? Scrambling makes me crabby. Lack of formal ritual work makes me crabby. I try to avoid the crabby, therefore, planning is good. )
The calendar keeps flipping….
All good intentions about updating aside, it’s hard to keep on top of with my current schedule. (Day job from 7:30am to 4pm weekdays, my part time temporary reference librarian job weekends 12-5 and Monday and Tuesday evenings), plus various religious group commitments.
This weekend was blissfully free for a change: some brief social stuff and errands, but all of Monday free due to Martin Luther King Jr. Day. I feel part-way human again. Plus, I’ve only got five more days at the temporary job to go, which helps with momentum.
Conversation, part 1
Last week, my group had the first part of a really productive conversation about what the core of the tradition is. We’re still in progress on this, but we’re in agreement on a lot of things. One of the things I’ve been thinking about is the difference between how we do things, and why we do them.
For example, we’re all in agreement about some core aspects of the tradition – we have a reputation for thoroughness, for example, both in our training and our ritual work, that we all care about a lot. Yet, while the group I’m hiving from is primarily a teaching-focused group (and we agree that the ability to teach is an important thing for our initiates, whether or not they want to focus on it), the new group I’m founding is not going to be focused that way.
Compare that to our actual practices – how we cast circle, what we consider to be the fundamental rituals of the tradition (our initiation rituals, but also a few others) that everyone should experience. These are practical things, and we spent a lot of time on Wednesday hammering out which ones mattered which ways (and also talking about some options for if groups in the tradition remain local, and if they don’t.)
It’s one of my favorite kinds of discussions (I like being able to hang things on practical outcomes), so I had a blast. (I do still need to type up my notes, though.)
Some things we talked about:
- The various parts of our ritual structure.
- Were all these parts necessary?
- What aspects were necessary for it to feel like ‘home’ to us? Was it the words, the visualisation used, the energetic process?
- Are there deities who are central to the tradition? In what ways?
- Are there other practices or concepts that are? Which ones?
- How we view interaction between different ritual roles.
- Types of workings we feel our initiates should be somewhat familiar with.
- Group structure, why we do that, and how to resolve issues between different groups in the tradition.
We still have some things to discuss - mostly about specific rituals (like initiations and some other key ritual points.) but we’re most of the way there. I’m very excited.
Before spending some posting time talking about what my plans are for hiving, I realised it makes sense for me to talk about *why* I want to hive. This is that post.
Where I’ve been:
(A quick note: I don’t normally mention the name of the group I work with online, because I’m the one of us who is most active online, and I default to preserving confidentiality and other people’s affiliations when possible, which means avoiding online-searchable mentions. If you’re in the area, or otherwise curious, feel free to send me an email. You can reach me at Jenett at this domain name, and if you don’t hear back in 2-3 days, feel free to email again because it probably got lost.)
I’ve been working since May of 2001 with a group in the Twin Cities. We’re primarily set up as a teaching focus. People can do a year-and-a-day training. Some stay, and continue to work through the degrees, work with the group, and take on other responsibilities. Some go off and become well-grounded solitaries. Some come back for the rituals they can, but have other obligations or desires that mean they stay as first degrees.
There are some things that are fantastic about this set-up. I’ve learned a tremendous amount from the regular influx of new people, from questions, and from being part of the teaching side of the equation, as well as (obviously) from the student side.
Things I’ve learned about me:
I’m an introvert. I recharge energy spending time on my own, and interaction with lots of people, no matter how much I like them, tends to be tiring. I’m working in a very people-intensive job right now (My desk is out in the main library area. Teenagers have lots of energy.)
Even if I get the kind of library job I would most like (which would either have a quieter environment in general or an office I could retreat to for focused work), I’m still going to continue dealing with a lot of people in the course of a day. It’s especially true if I want to consider taking on some professional leadership/committee type work in the future.
I also do far better with emotionally intimate relationships if I can spend one-on-one time with people. One of the things I’ve found this year is that I really want to do that with people I’m in a coven setting with - and our existing group is getting too big for me to do that. (We’re at 15 people for most rituals.)
My goal with whatever this new group becomes is to keep it small enough that I can comfortably spend an hour or two with each member one-on-one every two months (I might well spend more, or spend a lot more time with them in larger groups, too, but that’s my minimum.) My guess is that this comes out to 8 people, give or take 2, but that much over 10 is too many for me, unless some of them are close friends I already see regularly on their own.
I also - as much as I’ve enjoyed the new energy and thoughts and questions that we get from new students - want to go deeper than a group that’s taking in new members regularly can really do. Much of our current ritual scheduling varies depending on where our students are in training.
I still am deeply committed to the tradition as a tradition (which is new territory, as I’m the first person to hive off and not use my training to go do my own thing, so there is much discussion). But I also see some places for some differentiation.
Group desires:
1) Music in magical and ritual practice.
I’d like to develop methods that integrate even more of this than we currently do. (For example, I’ve been a guest at a Blue Star circle, where they used a sung circle cast.) In my current group, we use music for various parts of the circle, but I’d like to experiment with an entirely sung/played circle, and with developing music for other segments, as well as the use of specific types (meter, mode, etc.) of chants and drum beats for meditation, energy raising, and other uses.
2) Series of rituals.
One of the things I’ve most enjoyed are when we can link rituals together in a series that build and develop layers in each other. We’ve done this a few times for 3-4 ritual segments in my current group: I’d like to find ways to do that more regularly.
One of my ideas is to have a 4-6 month cycle for full moon rituals, where each ritual focuses on a related topic. If the cycle was focusing on elements, the first moon might be air, the second fire, and so on.) Other themes/cycles I’m interested in include folk or fairytales, myths, the Witch’s Pyramid, various tools of the Craft, etc.
I’d build in some flexibility for times other things were needed, and *how* the topic was addressed might be in very different forms from one ritual to another. (One might be a meditation, the next a magical working, the next a ‘Witchy Craft’ project and charging of the object, etc.) For example, we might pick one cycle theme for every 6 months, but only pick 4 specific things to focus on: the other 2 could be left open to adapt at need or shorter notice or specific ideas we wanted to work with soon, but that didn’t fit the current series.
3) Preparation and New Moons:
Closely related to #2, I’d like to explore what it’s like to have everyone have a general idea what the ritual will be about before they enter (for at least some rituals, like most moons).
The model above would let us do that: people would be able to spend the month before the moon knowing that the next moon would relate to Air, or to Persephone, or to the Chalice, or whatever, and could incorporate that into their daily practice if they wish. Perhaps the person writing the moon might give some suggestions.
My current group work does not include New Moons (except once a quarter, as part of our initiate-only work).While I don’t want to add another group ritual date to the calendar, necessarily, I’d love to come up with New Moon ideas that group members could work on on their own at that time, perhaps with everyone comparing their experiences next time we met. (Divination, scrying, dream work, a particular ritual technique, a focus on the upcoming full moon topic, etc.)
4) Deeper ritual work.
I’ve already mentioned my desire for deeper and more focused group work.
Obviously, the group will likely have students *sometimes* (after all, we’re an independent tradition: anyone not trained in my current group will, at a minimum, need to learn specifics of the tradition’s practices). If I end up moving for a new job (aware from the one existing group in the tradition), that’s even more true. This is not the post to talk about my thoughts on that, but it’s on my list of things to discuss in the nearer future. I do think deeper work is possible with students - it does, however, probably indicate a different model than I’ve been used to (and fewer students active at a given time.)
5) Further discussion of personal work.
We’re sometimes curiously reticent to discuss our personal work. There are some good reasons for that, of course - but at the same time, sometimes sharing brings us new insights or ideas. One of the things I’d like to do is build a setting where some sharing of individual personal work can take place (whether that’s in ritual, or through a different format, I don’t know.)
One of the exercises I’ve most enjoyed in my training has been when people have cast their personal circle (i.e. as if they set up for their personal ritual work) for the group. Getting to spend time inside their circle, with the deities they work with on a personal level, has been really powerful. I don’t want to do that all the time (it removes it from the group experience in some ways) - but every so often, that kind of thing is really neat.
6) Scheduling
One of my current frustrations is that there are group events on many weekends - usually not both days, but on one or the other. This both makes it hard to take a weekend away, and it has made it hard for me to find time to work on other long-term Craft related projects (writing/editing, in my case.) that require a several-hour stint of focus. (After I get other things done, like my laundry and errands and housecleaning.)
I’m curious what it would be like to have a schedule where we kept more weekends totally free - perhaps by having discussion or even full moon meetings at another time (Friday night, ideally, to allow time without people needing to go to work in the morning.) The actual choices will depend a lot on other members of the group, but I am committed to the idea of keeping 2-3 weekends open and free, and maybe have time for optional outings to museums, events, or other activities that weren’t directly Craft related.
So, there you are…
These are but a few of the things I’m kicking around. I’m sure there are other important ones I’ve left out here. As you can see, none of my reasons are “I can’t stand my current group” - it’s far more about a specific kind of focus, and about some practical details. (And, of course, if I move outside of driving range, hiving would be the only way to have a group in my tradition where I lived… that one’s the simple answer.)
In a future post, commentary on my plans A (staying in the Twin Cities) and B (moving somewhere outside the metro for whatever new job I get.)
I’ve seen a number of comments online in the last few weeks about people who comment that they find going to open rituals hard, because they’re so cliqueish. I can’t evaluate their experiences (since I don’t live where they live, and therefore am not seeing the same things), but I do have some thoughts.
My experience:
Most of my religious life is done in a smallish group setting in the training group I’ve been working with for 6+ years (I’m in the process on hiving, so this is changing.) But I do go to open rituals in my community a few times a year (at Pagan Pride, and usually once or twice for other rituals put on by various groups or under the auspices of our local Covenant of the Goddess grove.)
I certainly have gone to public rituals where I didn’t know anyone (or only one or two people) - my first was about 10 years ago, and then a series of three or four about 7 years ago, before I found the group I’ve been with since. I’m currently looking at going to some events outside my local area, where I may know only one or two people (who have other obligations at the ritual).
Who’s there, and why?
The first thing I keep in mind that people go to public rituals for all sorts of different reasons. My experience of people who might be at a public ritual looks something like this:
- People new to Paganism and curious: not sure if this is for them.
- People who are exploring the local community, who are often looking to make connections with a teacher, small group, or other activities.
- People who enjoy coming to a couple of public rituals a year, but who don’t have any strong connections within the local community (and often don’t really want them.)
- Students or potential students of smaller groups who are encouraged or required to attend some public rituals as part of their training.
- People who have been around the local community for a while (who may do other group work as well), who like to come, see who’s doing what, and catch up with people they don’t see often (or to see how someone they know or a group in town does ritual.)
- Local group leaders, teachers, and other people who organise or lead stuff in the community (again, often to see what’s up with other folks, and sometimes to meet people who might be interested in their groups.)
- And sometimes, the people putting on the ritual are doing so as part of their training or other requirements in learning to lead a larger ritual. (Other times, the group putting on the ritual puts on larger rituals on a regular schedule.)
Some of these groups are more likely to be really open to meeting someone totally new than others. People in groups 1 and 2 often want to meet other new folks, but they also often want to meet people who are established within the local community. People in group 3 sometimes are open to newcomers - but they sometimes just want to come to a ritual someone else is doing, and talk to their friends, and go home.
Groups 4-6 may very well be open to talking to unknown folks - but they’re also going to have other people they know, may want to catch up with, or maybe have other things to pay attention to. And the folks in group 7 may be frenzied and nervous beforehand, and desperately in need of sitting down, something to eat and drink, and a few deep breaths afterwards.
For example, I sometimes go to public rituals to keep students in the group I work with company (and in case they have questions afterwards, or need help grounding after the ritual.) In those cases, my first focus is going to be on the people I’m there with: I’m not going to be as able to wander around the room asking people who look like they don’t know anyone how they’re doing.
When is a clique not a clique?
What is a clique? Is it “There’s this bunch of people talking together, and they know each other, and I don’t know them?” Or is it “There’s this bunch of people talking together, and no matter where I try to introduce myself, I get totally shut out, even when I’m approaching it appropriately?” I’m not sure that *any* of the groups on my list are automatically cliquish. I reserve ‘cliquish’ for people who don’t let anyone else into the conversation, and who might as well be in their own homes for all the interaction they do.
Personally, if I’m in any of those groups (and I’ve been in all of them except #3 since I do have strong community connections) and someone comes up and says “Hi, I’m new, can you help me out?” I’ll be glad to do it. (Except if I’m leading ritual, in which case I’ll find them someone who can chat more, so I can get back to prepping.)
If someone comes and hangs around the edges of the space, though, and doesn’t ever indicate they’re interested in meeting people - chances are, I’m going to leave them alone.
That’s partly because I’m an introvert, and large group events tend to take a lot out of me already: it’s extra work to check on other people in the room. This means I tend to forget to circulate and check in with people unless I pay close attention to it. I do that at the rituals for the small group I work with, and I do it when I’m leading or helping with larger group rituals. But I don’t always do it when I’m a fellow participant at a group ritual.
It’s also partly because it’s what the culture I grew up in, and the culture I live in now (Massachusetts and Minnesota) feel is polite. If someone is alone, and isn’t showing signs that they want to be included (or that something’s obviously wrong), you let them be. If they’re crying or shaking, or obviously upset, then you help. If they say “Hey, I’m new, mind if I join you?” then you do what you can to include them.
Getting included:
There are some things you can do to improve your odds.
Advance notice:
If you know you’re going to a public ritual in advance, consider contacting the organisers and saying “Hi, I’m new to the community, I’m planning to come to X ritual. Is there a good way for me to meet people?”
You may not get a reply back (people are busy: it may slip through the cracks if one person reads the email, and someone else deals with more complex replies.) But you might also get useful information - that anyone still around at 9pm usually goes out for dessert after the ritual, or that there will be a meet-and-greet time before ritual starts, and to introduce yourself as new, or to ask for [Specific Person] and they’ll introduce you around.
It also lets the people running the ritual know that there are new folks there for certain, and may remind them to include some ways to let people introduce themselves/get involved.
Volunteer.
This is the single fastest way to my heart, and the heart of many other event organisers. You don’t need to volunteer for anything fancy: help setting up chairs, or putting them away, or putting out potluck food, are all very much appreciated. Find someone who isn’t immediately involved in ritual prep, say “Hi, I’m new to the community. What can I do to help?” (If you have physical limits, figure out a fast way to explain them: “I can’t help set up chairs, but is there anything I can do to help sitting down?” for example.)
If you volunteer, you may well meet people while you’re doing it (depending on the task), but I’m also much more likely to say “Hey, come sit with us” during the potluck if I know you’re new and want to meet people (which I’d know by someone volunteering and saying so.)
Pay attention:
Many group rituals will have either a chance for people to share names around the circle, an introduction for new folks before ritual, or some announcement about where to find people to eat with after ritual. Use these to your advantage if you want to meet people. If you introduce yourself, say “Hi, I’m [name], and I’m new to the area, and looking forward to meeting people.” or something else about that length. It’ll let people know you’re interested in chatting.
Many public groups will have some way to identify the people leading the ritual (ribbons, emblems, clothing, etc.) or they’ll introduce them before ritual starts. Make a note of anyone - especially people besides the priest and priestess (who will be busy before and after ritual): if you need help finding people to talk to, try them. (I think this is part of the job of offering a public ritual, personally.)
Be brave:
This is the hardest one: it can be really hard to tell if that group over there is open to some random stranger sitting down or not. Look for a varied group that seems appealing to you, and say “Hey, I’m new here: mind if I join you, or are you catching up with old friends?” If they say “Oh, gosh, we haven’t seen each other in six months, we might bore you.” you might want to go elsewhere, but chances are good they’ll say “Join us!”
If the first group you try doesn’t work, migrate, and try someone else. Hanging out around the food table or a firepit will usually get you near other people, and you can feel free to join in on conversations in these places unless they’re obviously private. Be polite, but don’t feel you need to be silent.
Share the conversational work:
If people keep trying to engage you in conversation, but you give one or two word answers, they’ll probably stop trying eventually, and go back to talking amongst themselves. Ask questions about the ritual, the area, the local community, the group that put on the ritual, and so on. (Be polite, but it’s fine to say “I hadn’t seen anyone do X before: that was really cool: how does that compare to this other thing I’ve read about?” for example.)
Be prepared with a short answer to likely questions like “What path are you on?” or “Are you looking for groups in the area?” or “How long have you been Pagan?”as well as the more common “Are you new to the area?” or “When did you move?” You don’t need to share your detailed life history but it helps to think about what you’re comfortable sharing or not sharing in advance.
Know thyself:
This one is perhaps most important. Not everyone thrives in the same settings.
It may be that going to a public ritual is fine for you for ritual reasons, but not a good way for you to meet people. It may be that a smaller Meet-up, Coffee Cauldron, or Pagan’s Night Out would be a better fit for you (these are smaller gatherings at coffee shops or local places to eat that are specifically designed for you to meet people. )
Or it may be that you’re most comfortable in a more traditional class setting - in this case, you might look for one session or short series of classes on a topic you’re interested in (introduction to Wicca, astrology, divination, a book discussion, herbs, etc.) and then see if there’s anyone in that class you’d like to get to know better.
It may also be true for you (as it was for me) that you figure out that you prefer smaller, more consistent ritual experiences, in which case you may want to explore smaller groups in your area. I also felt a lot more comfortable visiting the group I eventually joined than I did in public rituals, because everyone knew I was a seeker, and interested, and I didn’t have to go and find conversations to join. There were about 20 people at my first ritual with the group, and I knew some people there from the Seeker classes I’d already been to. It wasn’t nearly as intimidating.
Not everyone will be a fit:
There are a lot of fantastic people in the Pagan community. There are also people who are wrapped up in their own lives (sometimes with very good reason, if they’re worried about friends or family.) There are also sometimes people who are jerks, clueless, or even predatory. Use your common sense. If someone feels ‘off’ to you, go find other people to talk to.
At the same time, don’t write off anyone on a single meeting unless you are absolutely sure you *never* want to spend time with them again. Everyone has the occasional bad day: it’s worth giving people a second or third chance (in a different type of setting: quieter, one where they’re not responsible for the event, where they’re relaxed, etc.) before writing them off entirely or assuming they’re snobby or cliquish. Take your time before committing to anything (or any group) or taking sides in a local division of opinion.
Finally, if there’s a local networking email list, you may want to consider posting to it - or at least reading. It can help you get a feel for some names and faces. If you’re nervous about an upcoming public ritual, you could also post and say “Hey, interested in meeting people.” and offering some way to identify you. You’ll often find people who would be glad to talk and introduce you to others.
[These posts are part of a 'what does my life look like' series: check out the 'day in the life' category in the sidebar for more: the first post in the category has more information.]
I’m working a temporary job in January (as a reference librarian, woo!) that means I’m working Monday and Tuesday evenings (except for this week, when it’s been Wednesday/Thursday, due to the New Year’s holiday), and Saturday and Sunday afternoons. I’m off from my day job until Monday, but that means that today was my last day with no scheduled work until January 21st. (I love both jobs, but still, that’s a little depressing.)
What’d I do? Go out with friends.
7am: Wake up, get through my morning routine.
8:20am: Head off to pick up one friend from her house, then drive to pick up the other:
9:20am: Arrive at the Science Museum of Minnesota. We were going to see the touring Pompeii exhibit. We went down to see one friend’s mother-in-law (who works there), then got in line for 10am tickets for the exhibit.
10-11:45: We have a fantastic time in the exhibit (they have some interesting religious items - statues, lares, etc. - and some fascinating other items. They also have six of the plaster casts made from the forms of people (and animals) trapped in the explosion, which are very human. We then go have lunch.
12:30 : We come back and look at an excellent exhibit on raptors and birds of prey (covering biology, environmental aspects, cultural usages in the Native American population, and rehab and medicine issues. Very nicely done.) We divert to check out the seismic tone generator downstairs, and…
2pm: Come back up for a puppet theatre show called “The Pumpkin Girl” recommended by my friend’s MIL. (Very endearing and sweet: it’s a folk tale from Iran which has some resemblance to Cinderella. Also, it has an ogre, a wolf, a lion, and a girl in a pumpkin. What’s not to like?) We then hang out and chat to friend’s MIL and co-workers for a good bit, cheerfully geeking about rocks, bones, and other interesting natural objects.
3pm: We go to the Omnitheatre. I’d been warned by a co-worker that this film (about Greece and Greek history) is amazingly boring (She’s a Latin teacher. Her comment is “How can you make Greece boring? They did. It was very strange.”) But she’d recommended the visuals (which were stunning, but really, Santorini does that nicely without too much need to help, and the tickets were free.) At the end of the show, we discovered that all three of us wanted to snark about the same bits of narration (which is part of why these people are my close friends: we share similar desires in our information resources.)
4pm: We head to the gift shop (where I find a gorgeous and surprisingly inexpensive glass jar that I intend to use for water on my eventual group altar: it’s a clear turquoise glass.) We putter at books, and head off.
4:30: We go to two stores we want to introduce my second friend to - one is an excellent consignment store that friend one and I had great luck in previously. We have a fantastic time, find things we like, and get a chance to try on things and get feedback. (These two friends and another are all collaborating to get me a more interesting wardrobe that still meets my requirements for comfort and wearability: I was wearing one of our recent finds today which was a loose fitting silk shirt that was incredibly comfortable and flattering and interesting! (Far more so than my usual turtlenecks…)
The other store is called “Fairy Godmother” which has all sorts of lovely little things. (and also one of the best card selections for people I’m likely to give greeting cards to.) We spent less time here, because we were getting tired, but it was good to stop in. I drove both friends back, and ….
7pm Get home myself. Have computer time, cat-petting time, a bath, some dinner - and now it’s 11pm, and I need to aim at playing my harp and going to bed.
Probably the most common issue asthmatic witches (and various other Pagans) raise is about incense.
Different kinds of problems:
One thing people don’t always realise initially is that there are different kinds of things you can react to with incense.
Type: You might react to stick incense, but not to cone or loose incense. You might react to synthetic fragrance notes, but not natural oils. You might react to commercial binders and preparations, but not to homemade incense or even handcrafted commercial incenses.
Scents/ingredients: You may only react to some specific scents, but not to all. I’ve got a good friend who’s very reactive to lavender and rose and patchouli, but who adores other scents.
Space or amount: You might have trouble with lots of incense in a small or tightly shut room - but be fine with a smaller amount, a larger room, or better ventilation.
My current home is 400 square feet (no doors except the bathroom) and well-ventilated (another term might be ‘drafty’ except when the winter plastic is up). I have days where I burn a third or half of a stick of incense. I also have days when two or three sticks over the course of the day is just fine. I can tell in advance which is which.
Before writing incense off entirely, it may be worth doing some cautious experimentation (assuming that your asthma is generally under control, and you do this in a space you can leave and not come back to until it’s aired out.) Get someone to help you, too: they may spot you having trouble before you consciously notice it.
Consider the times you’ve had trouble before - not just with incense, but with perfumes, bath products, smoke, or other related allergens. Keep a journal for a month if you have to, of the times you find it easier and harder to breathe. Are there any patterns? Keep track of any new patterns you spot as you look at incense options. It may be that you can find options that do work for you.
Options:
Are you reacting to something specific? Consider, as above, what you actually react to. Maybe you need to avoid floral incenses, but other ones are fine. Some people find the sticks in the stick incense to set them off: some of the Japanese stick incenses (shaped like a stick, but with no wood in the middle) sometimes work better for those people. (Also, they’re shorter, so they contain less actual incense.) Some people find the charcoal used for loose incense gives them trouble, but a cone (which has finely powdered wood in it to help it burn) works fine.
Consider other scent options: Depending on what you want the incense for, you may find other options work well. Perfume and essential oils are some common ones.
If you do want to use scent, consider applying perfume or using an oil burner may work just as well. (However, there are uses of incense that don’t work as well with this.) While some people with allergies or asthma react to all perfumes, many actually react to other substances in commercial perfumes besides the perfume oil - things like the alcohol or other carrier or base.
There’s a sizeable number of natural perfumers out there, using different approaches. I’m quite fond of the Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab oils (and I’m really fond of their ritual oils, which are at Twilight Alchemy Lab) I’ve also been really impressed by Magickal Realism’s work. (Bias note on this one: I know Di from my local Pagan community.) They have different approaches, but the smells are great!
One benefit of the oil burner or applying a perfume oil to yourself is that if you do have problems, it’s usually easier to get it out of your environment fast. (Wash it off your skin or blow out the oil burner). They’re also usually far less all-involving than incense smoke can be. Remember that essential oils should be diluted before use, and that some oils aren’t suitable if you’re pregnant, or if you’re dealing with some types of medical issues (and you may want to pay attention to those ingredients in perfume 0ils, too.)
If you want to represent the element of air (but don’t necessarily need scent) you can use a feather, a fan, or ribbon.
Don’t use it:
The last logical option is simply not to use it at all. The benefit, of course, is that you can’t react to what isn’t there.
The problem is that many traditions use it for specific reasons: some of those reasons are more adaptable with alternatives than others. In addition, scent is a very powerful trigger for some people: using it deliberately can be a very moving ritual act. Removing that opportunity for a group should be considered very carefully, because it will affect everyone else in the group’s experience (and if the group trains students who will go off and found groups of their own, can also affect practices of those groups down the line).
A group may decide to take this step (and public ritualists should consider incense use very carefully), but they may decide not to change everything for one person. (at least not without first exploring alternatives.) It is good, though, to ask questions about allergies, to let people know that incense will be used (if it will be), and what kind it’s likely to be, if anyone has concerns.