pagan – L Becker https://authorlbecker.com This is how the end shall be written.... Sun, 21 Mar 2021 17:01:28 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.5.4 194785577 Ostara: What it means to me https://authorlbecker.com/ostara-what-it-means-to-me/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=ostara-what-it-means-to-me Sun, 21 Mar 2021 16:53:44 +0000 http://authorlbecker.com/?p=459
Image by Couleur from Pixabay

I’m a pagan who very rarely gets to be. Who doesn’t always have the choice to observe the high holidays, the sabbats and esbats and traditions of my chosen faith. I don’t even get to observe the traditional holidays most of the world does. In part it is by choice. A large part by necessity and through survival. Self-employed people don’t always get to choose their time off. I get days off when no one wants my services, not because I choose not to work. I’ve worked on Easter, 4th of July, Thanksgiving, every Memorial Day and Labor Day for the past ten years. I’ve worked Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and the  day after. I’ve worked more New Year’s eves than I can count and my share of Valentine’s and Halloween. It is part of being self-employed. I take the work when I can get it, which means many of my holy days you’ll find me at work, wishing I was out in nature, celebrating, commemorating and connecting to my faith.

Today is Ostara, and I am at work. I did not get to watch the sunrise over a circle, I will not get to walk under trees in the new light of spring. 

Still, I will celebrate in my way. I will take a moment to acknowledge this day, this rebirth of the sun. To revel in new warmth, new life, new everything. Spring is my season, my time. I am an April baby and with the new found sun I come alive each year. The cold melts away and I feel renewed like flowers coming back from a long winters slumber.

Ostara for me is the birth of that new life. A new year, refreshed and invigorated. I am ready to embrace the sun, the flowers. I am desperate to be outside and alive.  These sabbats are more than the acknowledgement of gods, old and new. They mark the passage of time, the reminder to be grateful because life is short and precious. The reminder to acknowledge the passing seasons, the ebb and flow of the tide of time. To remember we are connected to the earth, to nature. That we do not live apart, but a part of this amazing world. 

I start fresh, I start anew each sabbat, each turning of the wheel. I reaffirm myself to myself. I set new goals, shake off old doubts and begin again. Rebirthed and reborn so many times throughout the year, every shedding the old to don new layers of self. 

Ostara for me is another rebirth. The quickening of life and energy inside my mind. It brings me hope and happiness and, I will confess, a little fear. Not fear that time is passing or that my birthday is quickly approaching to count down the years of my life. No, the fear that something more will awaken me, the fearful mania of my Bipolar. This is the season I will go manic if I do. So while I am awake and happy, I am watching myself. Waiting, worrying that this joy is not real and will spiral into a storm of manic anxiety that will lead to fear and self-destruction. 

Still, I love the spring. It is my time.

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