My intention for this section is that, through describing how I have celebrated each Sabbat, I may give an idea of the meaning behind each Sabbat. Of course, one must bear in mind that this is my interpretation of those meanings!

My thoughts on each Sabbat in 2005 are detailed on separate pages.

Yule was a celebration of those gifts that make us who we are. In celebrating those gifts, it is a reminder that the source of those gifts is the Deity within us, the Goddess or God within. Key to this is that one simple detail: we must not forget that if we denigrate those gifts, which are part of the Deity within us all, then we denigrate Deity.

The celebration of the return of 'light' is something celebrated across various religions. However, in all the celebration of the return of the light and the Sun, let us not forget the darkness. Without dark, there could be no light. It is a matter of balance again. When it comes down to it, that is what we strive to achieve, the balance between all the parts of us that make us the individuals that we are.

At Imbolc, our focus was on the importance of loving ourselves, with all the faults that we believe we have. Only think how easy is it to look in the mirror in the morning and say "You look awful." So now try to say instead, "Good morning, you beautiful, but sleep-rumpled person." Feeling comfortable with yourself is part of the foundation of working with energy: of knowing yourself sufficiently well so that you are able to center and ground effectively. Learning not to call yourself "Stupid!" when you make a mistake is a difficult lesson, but the end result is a happier and more balanced individual.

Ostara is a time a rebirth and renewal. In order to further understand this annual process, my ritual centered on who I am and from whence I have come, quite literally, from an egg, a single-cell gamete which required the input of male essence to create the individual. This in itself demonstrates that the process is one which requires both female and male input, or to put it in spiritual terms, the input of the Goddess and the God. After all, Ostara is the Vernal Equinox, itself a time of balance, a state to which we strive. In finding that balance, in appreciating that we are born of two halves, I came to appreciate the role of the Goddess and the God at Ostara.

I have to admit that Beltaine is one of my favourite Sabbats. It is also the Sabbat closest to my own wedding anniversary, and thus, has special meaning for my (atheist) husband also. Beltaine is a celebration of the vitality of the God, the male essence. That vitality is seen all around us. We must not forget the role of the God in our own being, and as we grow in balance and the awareness of balance, we give thanks to that, and for that, part of us.

Litha has particular significance for me, as it seems that, at Litha, momentous things happen in my life. I performed my self-dedication at Litha, I was initiated to first degree at Litha, and I separated from some good friends at Litha. Last year (2007), I spent the Litha weekend at Chalice Well in Glastonbury, a chance to review and reflect. This is hopefully something which can become an annual event for me. Certainly I have booked up for 2008, and have the dates outlined in my 2009 diary already. Litha is the longest day of the year, a time at which the God-force is at its strongest. It has always been my practice to go out into the Fens and to greet the sunrise. Part of the healthy growth that I see around me and in my garden is the result of pruning - of knowing when to cut back a rosebush, or in a spiritual context, when to bid farewell to those things that hinder our continued growth. It is worth remembering that we have the maximal strength of the God-force to help us at Litha in these endeavours.

For some people, Lughnasadh can be a celebration of a good harvest or a time to look back at the harvest that has resulted from seeds sown. Thus, it can either be a time of celebration, or a time for contemplation. This year, Lughnasadh almost passed me by, but not quite. I feel that the fact that it took me three attempts to weave my corn dolly this year was significant, because it was a reflection of what has happened to me. It was a reminder that particularly now that I have chosen to return to the solitary path, I need to be more mindful that it is my responsibility to live and practice my religion. At Lughnasadh, we celebrate that the God has sacrificed himself that we might survive the potentially harsh months of Winter, physically and spiritually. As with all sacrifice, it is wise not to let it go to waste.

With the coming of Mabon, the year is almost drawing to a close. This is the second harvest of the year, traditionally that of fruit and produce. As I collected conkers for my son, I considered the nature of this perennial game. The conker is the fruit of the horse-chestnut tree. As with all plants, the tree produces large quantities of seed in the hope that just one will find fertile ground and germinate, resulting in another tree. Having been raised as a Roman Catholic, of course I am familiar with the biblical Parable of the Sower. However, it is a story worth considering. In our lives, we plant seeds of things that we hope will grow: a relationship, a friendship, a business venture. Sometimes these things will fail, and sometimes they will prosper. But, if there is one lesson we can learn from this harvest, it is that the wheel continues to turn: next year the 'conker' tree will produce more conkers, there will be blackberries in the hedges next year. As the Wheel turns, we continue to grow too: the seed of an idea that failed to produce a harvest this year, may lead to another idea that will succeed. Failure is not an excuse to give up and cry "Woe is me". Learn from the situation, and, at this festival of the Equinox, find the balance between the extremes of failure and success. The world around us does not give up and neither should we. This year, I shall be planting several of those conkers, with the hope that some will germinate and grow, even as I hope to continue my spiritual growth next year.

And so, I find myself celebrating Samhain, the final harvest festival and the close of the year. This year, I did not write my ritual, and planned it only as far as quarter candles, incense, a cauldron and a centre candle. I acknowledged my own personal harvest: my family, my home, my friends and my job. What led to this harvest, and what needs to be modified in order for me to continue to develop and grow? I meditated on the nature of fear: my own fears, and the fears of others that can lead to irrational behaviour. Where such behaviour has caused me pain, I gave my forgiveness freely and sought to understand the reasoning. But such forgiveness and search for understanding is tinged with sadness, for there will always be those who cannot overcome that barrier, and who cannot acknowledge where their own fears might lead them. Whether our fears are caused by events in the distant past, or more recent events; whether their source lies in feelings of powerlessness or financial insecurity, it behoves us to attempt to understand those fears. If we continue to delude ourselves that such fears do not exist, then in the end, we cause hurt to ourselves. To do so is to cause hurt to the Goddess and the God, who are within us.

So, as the year drew to a close, and I looked forward with anticipation at what will come in the new year, I realised the nature of my harvest for this year.

Cendriya