Mixed-faith households (Spring Equinox 2022)

You know what I didn’t expect about my transition? How much it would bring to light that has nothing to do with gender – for example, Dear Hart no-longer enjoys participating in my religious festivals.

As much as he loves me and wants to be supportive, he doesn’t care about spirituality. He’d rather be playing video games than making potions in the park. Not to mention that he finds the sheer effort of making magic for the kids exhausting. Christmas and birthdays are enough for him. He has given it a good solid try, but I can’t pretend I didn’t notice his lack of engagement.

For me? I don’t think the kids need a birthday party every single year, but the joy their bunnies give them is worth the effort. The years are long, why shouldn’t we give gifts and have a feast for both solstices? I want to teach them the value of connecting with nature. And I don’t particularly want to deal with their little friends or make small talk with the parents – he could do the birthdays, I could feed their wonder.

Sabbats are tricky. Whilst my kids are starting to be old enough to participate in rituals, my niblings are not. Black Swan has always come to my gatherings, but it’s not safe to bust out the candles and knives and such at the moment. Won’t be for a while.

Kids aside, the way I’ve been doing Sabbats doesn’t nourish me.

And I hate cooking. The feast has always been the focus (mostly, I suspect, because of the company I kept at the point where I started inviting people in) but I don’t enjoy the stress of timing all the dishes to be the right temperature only to inevitably eat mine cold. And I always destroy at least one thing! Cooking is so hard. Why am I trained to do more of this thing that I hate on special occasions?

With all that said, my practice will be undergoing a shift.

More focus on what I need out of my spirituality. Less effort on making it palatable to normies.

The thing I’ve always hated about being a witch is the loneliness, but bringing in people who don’t want to be there just compounds that feeling. I feel like enough of a freak (for these reasons), I don’t really need the added pressure – the added work – of opening my soul, when the loneliness persists regardless. Going forward, I’m going to embrace solitary practice or seek out public circles. I’m taking a break from hosting and cooking and watering down my weirdness.

What about Eostre?

The spring equinox is just around the corner. I usually do an egg hunt at the park for my kids and niblings, cook a nice lunch for everyone (kids are still complaining about that one veggie tart I made) but last year we were locked down so I hid the eggs around my house the night before, and the kids had the best morning ever. I kind of want to just do that again. I have a key to my sister’s place – I can egg her unit too. Low effort. That’s where I’m at. Happy children, well-rested parents. That’s the vibe I’m going for.

You know what that means? More energy and time for witchcraft. For rituals and spells and sacred art. I feel like a selfish sonofawitch, but I’m excited too.

You can find my ritual outline for this year’s Eostre here.

Miriam Cumming is an author, spouse, parent, and witch. Ze’s been practising witchcraft since high school, adapting hir practice through all different stages of life. When ze’s not riding that post-ritual rush, ze enjoys planning and video games.