Beltane

It's Beltane time, kids.

But wait, Aradia, you might say, Beltane is like two weeks away.

To which I might respond, with sincere respect, where the fuck have you been?

It's been Beltane since the Equinox, at least.



Early Spring has passed us by completely. (That happened one wondrous week in late February.) I've had my air conditioning running, off and on, since the beginning of March. The red buds are far past red, trees and grass are in full summer green. And with all due deference to the familiar adage, anyone with half an impulse to do so could have found at least twenty perfect days for outdoor, ahem, shenanigans, by now.

Meanwhile, my altar has languished at Imbolc.

Yes, Imbolc.

The world is in full growth mode, soaking up every bit of sunshine and life and inspiration and translating that into outward change. My altar, and therefore, at least symbolically, my entire spiritual existence, has been hanging out in the tentative planning and gestation phase.

I spent today (or, if I'm to be honest, the last six weeks) humming with excess energy. Buzzing out of my mind. Insomnia and anxiety and grocery-store panic attacks. I don't know where to go with it all. It builds up in my hands, in my shoulders. I need an outlet.

I've been absorbing and internalizing and planning and thinking... but I haven't been using any of it. I haven't been translating any of it.

(If you're going to keep a seasonal altar, darlings, keep it fucking seasonal. Learn from my mistakes.)

So, I finally redid the altar tonight. Usually this is a full moon activity, but, as my brother would say, "Sometimes you just gotta get some." My observances of moon phase are completely not happening right now, anyway.

The idea for the Maypole-themed candle was stolen from here. My only concern with the design depicted in that example was the candle being unburnable, so the glass allows me to wrap it and burn it.

My Beltane ritual, at this point, has begun. All of that extra tension is going into this candle, to fuel a set of specific intentions. I plan to spend several evenings painting the glass to that end, but the candle is set, it's open, it's absorbing. When actual Beltane happens, I will wrap the ribbons to seal in all of the insanity I've been sending towards it, and let the thing burn for however many days it takes.

In the meantime, I guess, I will just hope I don't explode the damn thing while I am sitting at my desk at work trying to send all of my shitty overwhelming drama into it from afar.