But last week I also found myself thinking of Litha as a transition, a passing over from the young part of the year to the part which begins aging towards winter. It is a bridge, I thought, and so should I also be.

Every day I see new evidence of intolerance, bigotry, injustice and oppression in the world. I read each day’s news of what seems to be an increasingly-Machiavellian government. Bill Moyers (my personal next Vatican nominee for sainthood along with John Spong) has publicly called for the resignation of Ken Tomlinson, head of the Moyers’ own Corporation for Public Broadcasting because of Tomlinson’s apparent coziness with the radical right.

Bishop Spong has warned the Episcopal church worldwide that "Christianity must change or die." The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services this week found itself named in a lawsuit which exposes its funding of a national program ("The Silver Ring Thing") that openly proselytizes students. Local charities refuse our pagan donations. And we pagans - well, goddess bless us, it often feels like all we are able to agree upon is disagreement.

Having lived through the 60s I gotta say, it sure looks familiar, and if the pattern holds true, something’s about to blow, and soon.

At this point, my idealistic Sagittarian brain kicks in; what can I do to fix it? Back in the day, we would lead a march or join a sit-in. I went to civil rights organizing meetings, visited the state legislature on Earth Day, begged the "establishment" to give peace a chance. It’s not so easy now (it probably wasn’t then, either, but I was too young to know that). The issues feel way more complicated than when my jeans were bell-bottomed.

Having spent a few years as a fundamentalist Christian in my youth, I am well aware that I cannot hold a rational conversation with a Bible-thumper. Logic is not the point with a literalist, only orthodoxy, so there is really nothing to discuss. When I joined the Silent March by the NAACP to protest the Confederate flag a few years back, very few people there seemed happy to see me (I’m white) - civil rights work has been displaced in many circles with what columnist Leonard Pitts laments as "circling the wagons." And politics? Mercy, I can’t even go there without remembering the state politician with whom I worked on a project several years ago, who stated that before he would give in on his pet issue there would be blood on the floor. Looks like Congress feels the same way right now about the filibuster. The world has turned ugly and chaotic.

Here’s where my bridge comes in. I cannot change others - only they can change themselves, and that by starting from within. I can no more expect the Bible thumper to understand how I can call on multiple deities, than I expect politicians in South Carolina to stop being good old boys in my lifetime. IAnd I have no intention of going down front at the altar call, or abandoning my advocacy for social justice to curry favor with the old boys. But here’s what I can do.

I can occasionally visit the church or synagogue of a friend, enjoy the beauty of their way of worship, and demonstrate that I respect their faith. I can try to listen objectively to the positions of lawmakers and leaders that I’d begun to tune out. After all, I might miss the one thing they say that makes sense to me, and even if we continue to disagree, I’ve given them the benefit of the doubt, and probably learned at least a little something. Hey, stick with me on this– understand that I have almost daily apoplexy over the latest Bushism or Condi announcement, but I’m trying. I was raised in a two-party household, and I know it can be done!

Most of all, I can constructively engage in the life of my community. Just be who I am. Vote. Support the arts by going to performances. Serve food at the homeless shelter. Read aloud to at-risk children at school. Go to my community meetings and take cookies. Be friendly and considerate to my neighbors. Breathe through my next road-rage encounter and smile. Compliment the girl at the drive-through on her new ‘do. When someone tells me I’m going to hell, wave and just say "thank you."

Remember, we’re not out to change people, just be accepted as we are, and live in harmony. Although I keep my earth-based faith to myself in my professional life, inevitably over time some colleagues become friends, friends become confidantes, and by the time they learn I am pagan, they already respect and care about me. When someone loves and respects you, they are more open to accepting not only your paganism, but will probably keep a more open mind if you talk about other issues close to your heart.

When you make your life a bridge, others will find their way across.

When Midsummer Night comes this year, I plan to recommit myself to stretching a little further, a little higher. It is the only way I can see we will get out of the trouble we are in. And besides, from up on my bridge, the water below is lazy and cool, white herons fly over, and turtles come out on the rocks to bask in the sun and check out the turtle babes. After all, it is summer.

Sekhmet lives and writes in South Carolina, and is the founder of Osireion.com; She is a lifelong seeker and mystic, wiccan in practice, with years of study in creative consciousness.; For more information, write sekhmet@osireion.com.