Something that was instilled in me from a young age was the sacredness of an altar. I was raised Catholic, and anyone who's ever been in a Church knows that the altar isn't somewhere you just go. Only certain people are allowed up there, and those people usually aren't you. I got involved in the Church when I was younger, and in high school started reading at Mass. I was allowed close to the altar then, and sometimes even behind it, (gasp!) and it inspired awe in me.
They weren't just at Church though. My Grandmother had two - one in her room with a Cross and one in the living room with a statue of Mary. Both had lace doilies, silk flowers and greenery, candles, and a little crystal dish for holy water. My mother had an altar too, and a holy water vessel and candles, but no silk flowers. These spaces we knew were sacred spaces, and we were careful around them.
So when I became Pagan, and stopped going to Church, I was already out of my Mother's house and there wasn't an altar in my apartment to anyone. It didn't occur to me to go set one up to a deity (or two) now that I was polytheist. I just was, and when I wanted to talk to them I went outside, found a tree, and talked. It wasn't something that happened in a building.
As it happens, I took up with some other Pagans eventually and the question of "what do you mean you don't have an altar at home?" came up, with the sort of questioning looks that accompany comments of "what do you mean you haven't ever heard of Star Wars??" So I went looking into altars in Pagan space, and figured out how to do the thing.
So there I was, setting up a sacred space in my bedroom because I had nowhere else to put it. I burned the incense, called a Circle, did the walk, said the words... and then never touched it unless I was specifically doing magical work. It was on a pedestal that I couldn't reach unless my mind was clear, the room was quiet, the incense was burning, and I was skyclad. I never leaned on it, bumped against it, touched it in passing... There were shields up as far as I was concerned, not to be interrupted unless absolutely necessary for a rite.
This went on for *years* despite the fact that my altar is on the top of my dresser. I'd use the drawers, but I wouldn't touch the top unless there was a reason, and that reason had to be ritual.
Well, about a month and a half ago I broke my own rule. I leaned on the top as I took my socks off. I was exhausted and the bookcase that used to live next to the dresser is in another room being useful there. Without thinking I placed my hand on the top of my dresser, leaned and removed socks from my feet.
And the strangest thing happened.
I smiled. The feeling of warmth on my hand from touching that sacred space was gentle and inviting - like a friend who hugs you as you both say "it's been too long." And that's what it was, exactly. It had been too long. The pieces laying there, my book, chalice, blade, incense, offering bowl, bessom... they're all friends that I have had long conversations with, that have been in my life for many years. What I was doing wasn't revering them. I was neglecting them, coming to them only in times of great need and not when I just wanted to visit. That's no way to be a friend.
Now I touch my altar all the time. I spend a few minutes in the morning as I chose my underpinnings smiling at the carving on the wall hanging there, looking through my book, jotting notes and filling the pages as I once did regularly. Now, at the end of the day, I smell the sage in the bowl and run my fingers through the ribbons on the bessom. I touch my altar all the time now, and it thanks me for it.
Since I started this, I feel more attached to my path. My altar hasn't become less sacred, and it hasn't become more sacred - it's just as it was, ever waiting to visit with me, help and guide me, listen to me.
So think about your altar - how often do you visit? Only when you want to hold ceremony or ritual? Do you go only to ask for something? Or do you visit just to touch it, just to see how things are and to know yourself to still be connected?
Blessings!
This has been a hard spring for me. It was a hard winter, and it will be a hard summer and fall as well. The loss that my family suffered in September last year is still a pain that I feel acutely, and will be for some time. The loss of a loved one is not easily recovered from. Marking the Wheel is helping.
