Pagan and the Pit(bull)

The adventures and musings of a Pagan and her dog.

This Weeks Food for Thought

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Just so we are all on the same page: I’m not on top of things. It’s the beginning of the holiday season (a time I have issues with anyway), finals and final projects are coming up, I’m mega behind on several side projects, and registration for next semesters classes tend to give me a week of nightmares and panic attacks. So, super sorry for the late update. I swear, I do have thoughtful and relevant posts coming—there is one on why we should give libations to Ares during the holidays, and one about a charge of Hecate and why I think it works. But right now, this is a going to be a little bit more “stream of consciousness” than anything else, so we’ll see where this ends up.

When I first started writing this post, it was on Thursday and there was a craft fair at my university. Normally, I’m a anti-holiday creep—because Thanksgiving is its own holiday and deserves respect; and nothing gets my goat like hearing ads for the Nutcracker on Labor Day and seeing Christmas decorations the day after Samhain. Just sayin’. But this time I was more ok with the annual craft fair happening before Thanksgiving, the academic calendar is a little fucked up wonky this fall, and there were at least 5 Pagan vendors there (possibly 6, but I’m not sure if that woman is Pagan or just one of the New Age-y people who show up all the time to festivals and smoke tons of pot).

Which meant I went around taking pictures of all of their wonderful things (and getting a free neck rub score!) to post on the Facebook page of the university’s Pagan student group. Somewhere between “thank every single god for caffeine and the local coffee shop” and “holy jesus look at that Minion hat, I need it” I thought about what being a community means. During my lunch breaks, I’m normally not a deep thinker; I just want to sit down with some mind numbing fiction and eat in peace and quiet. But this was my exception.

Because community is more than just the people you go to ritual with, drink and dance with at festivals, eat with, laugh and cry with. It’s the small things that tie us all together. It’s knowing the stories of the local vendors (one has a son who is the most adorable boy I’ve ever met) and supporting them through the hard ones (one vendor was robbed while he was at a festival, so his stock is super limited). It’s posting their businesses on a Facebook page, because that’s how they need support right now and as a community it’s up to us to support them sustainably how they need (and within our means, don’t be going out to spend money you don’t have). We weave our own community tapestry, but we don’t weave it in grand sweeping patterns and bold colors. We weave in single threads and touches. These singles threads, these small contacts are what build us up and hold us together.

Which makes this post somehow better than I thought it was going to be, minus the overabundance of commas and parenthesis, because it reached a point. It also meets it’s criteria of being a post for this week, so I’m going to leave it here and then tackle my load of homework. I might cry into my wine while I do it, but it will actually get done.

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