This one’s an interesting one for me, as I’ve let my regular practice slide horrendously in the last 4 years. Since I moved to a new country. We then moved again midway through that time to a new area as well, so I’m all cattywhumpus. Which saddens me.
Perhaps it’s because after 37 years of life, education, climate, flora and fauna, friends, family etc in one land is still hugely overshadowing the 4 years in this new land – full of different flora, fauna, climate (oh hell yeah!), life and many experiences that are negative in relation to family and friends. Or perhaps it’s just that I’ve let my practice slide so everything seems so very different. Or maybe it’s the call of the familiar that keeps me from doing more of what I loved. *shrugs* So in all fairness, I can only really address this question in relation to my practice from 4 years ago. I may even find answers to my questions along the way in doing so…
I shared a home with my family for most of my life, we moved alot. Then my father decided to leave and that stopped. Roots finally! I shared home with my Mum and brother for a couple of years from that point to when little brother moved out. A couple of years later, he passed away, so our family was reduced. It was at that point that I came out of the broom-closet to my Mum, having reached the realisation that life is too short and unpredictable for secrets from those closest to you. From that point, I didn’t have to hide my regular incense and candle offerings to the deities, nor my celebration of the sacred days. 🙂
We lived in a reasonably sized city, considering it was New Zealand – seriously, Christchurch can’t compare size-wise to somewhere like Beijing or Washington – and in our little slice of the suburbs we had a good sized property, complete with apple trees, pear trees, peach trees, apricot tree and rose bushes. Just a few minutes down the road was a park complete with oak tree that I gathered fallen acorns from at Mabon. A few minutes in another direction were the local market gardens and orchards. The passing of the seasons was incredibly obvious. The clarity of watching the moonrise over the beach sands also near home couldn’t be missed either. This all made practice of my spirituality easier I feel.
Now, there’s barely a discernible seasonal shift, despite the cooler temperatures (thank the Goddess for them!), I feel cut off, even though we live closer to the beach than I did back in NZ. I share my life with Mr U – also a pagan of long-standing. Even though there’s more spirituality in my life, I can’t seem to hold on to it beyond fleeting. I suspect that this is because somewhere deep down, I dislike the very nature of nature in this land of searing heat or flooding extremes. It’s a land that either kills you or changes you. And I’m not good with change.
I prefer an environment that I can wander through as easily as it wanders through me, but still has enough humanity around to allow a latte and pumpkin and chocolate muffin when the whim strikes on Samhain night. I am more of an indoor person – or have been since I came here to Australia. I suspect that’s a combo of the climate and my recently diagnosed anxiety and depression. I could walk in a park in NZ without feeling panic…but not so here. I actively avoid it actually.
How does where I live affect my spirituality? Profoundly. And all’s cattywhumpus. And that saddens me…