Dirty Altars, Blooming Trees

Another House Blessing

There’s this quote my mom liked, “Dusty Bibles lead to dirty lives.” It always felt icky to me, the usual religious guilt trip but even more explicit than normal, so I was surprised when that quote came to mind as I was passing my altar. It gets a lot of cat traffic due to its proximity to a window, and the miniature succulent garden that is part of my altar has a tendency to shed potting soil and plant matter (also likely cat-related). Between that mess and the books and other life detritus that tends to still get dropped on my desk-turned-sacred-space, my altar was looking decidedly neglected. I felt a pang. Was it guilt? Regret? A wish that life didn’t feel so busy and I could spend more time here? All of the above? I was, of course, in the middle of something and only had time right then to water my poor, wilted succulents, but the feeling stayed with me. My brain has been particularly chaotic with planning for a trip down to Florida for a family wedding, and I don’t like how antsy and cluttered I feel up there. But we’re leaving this very weekend, and there’s just so much to do. I don’t have time for anything extra.

Fast forward to this afternoon, and my anxiety levels were approaching the Red Zone. It isn’t just that I hate packing because I’m always afraid I’m going to forget something important. It isn’t just that my husband will be flying in later next week from a work trip and I’ve never driven so far on my own before. It isn’t just that every single time we go on vacation with my parents something goes badly wrong and drama ensues. It isn’t just that I get mildly anxious every time I drive anywhere thanks to a car crash that nearly killed my uncle and three of my cousins, and that anxiety mounts the longer I’m expecting to be on the road (once I’m actually driving I’m usually fine as long as the weather is clear, it’s not dark, and I’m not too tired. It’s the idea of driving that gets me, the responsibility of controlling something so large that doesn’t have a mind of its own to make up for any lapses of attention on my part). More than all of that I just really, really hate leaving my safe space for any length of time.

I know, I know, I’ve said all this before..but it’s still true. Worse, I seem to have passed on the “leaving anxiety” to Rena, my oldest. Granted, her anxiety is pet-related and justified: we’ve twice returned from a trip to find a bunny dead or dying (they had been unwell for some time in both cases, but still), and at least twice have returned to find a cat accidentally locked up somewhere (and totally fine, but still), and once to find our outdoor cat wounded from a nasty fight with something large enough to make a tumbled mess of the garage (he’s recovering well, but not 100% yet, and nobody wants to leave him again so soon). She’s a very sensitive soul and deeply attached to all our critters, and has been having a hard time with leaving recently, especially with this impending trip. So am I. I didn’t know how to fix this for either of us. While the girls were watching a movie for school I found myself standing stock still in the kitchen, staring out the window at the beautiful day, paralyzed by the anxiety and my inability to push past it. My thoughts returned to my poor, neglected altar. That’s it, I thought, I need Ritual.

The thought was enough to get me moving again. Ritual was no longer an “extra” but the thing that would get me unstuck and able to finish my to-do list. I made myself a latte while the girls were finishing their movie and then called them into the kitchen. They came, reluctantly, unwilling to waste a day like this stuck inside with only me and their math books. Luckily for them, I felt the same way. “Let’s make a new House Blessing!” I said, instantly getting their attention. I’ve been wanting to remake the House Blessing we made last fall, updating it for the growing season. Doing so felt right, but the timing hadn’t until now. Delighted, armed with a basket for gathering and a bowl of unshelled nuts as gifts, we headed out into the beautiful day. I already felt lighter.