We didn't go to fast food restaurants when I was a kid. As a teen witch, I became a bit fixated on acquiring salt packets, but since my family didn't eat out, there weren't many opportunities to pick some up. By the time I was earning my own money and could choose to eat out, I was a vegetarian... this was before most major fast food restaurants had a veggie option on their menu.
The books I was reading as a teen Pagan recommended carrying a portable ritual or magic kit with you. Since salt is so useful to Pagans--cleansing, protection, earth symbolism--magic-to-go supply lists would always include salt, often with the note that fast food restaurant packets are convenient and light weight.
In these books, carrying magic supplies with you was treated like carrying CPR supplies in your purse, or a fire extinguisher in your car, or a Naloxone kit if you are likely to encounter people who overdose. It was a responsible thing to do.
When I was a baby Pagan, some part of me imagined that one day I would encounter some sort of spiritual or supernatural crisis that would require emergency magical intervention. I didn't really believe it: it was a fantasy; an excuse to imagine myself as the hero because I was the only person ready for this kind of crisis... the only person equipped with salt and the secret of how to use it. A lot of new magic users have this type of fantasy, I think. Certainly, I've run across a lot of hints of it in the Pagan community.
I had been listening to a podcast about the QAnon cult, and when a handful of salt packets arrived in my dinner delivery, it made me think of how, when I was fifteen, sixteen, I would have found some of the QAnon stuff, especially the "save the children" part, appealing: the idea that marching with a sign and knowing the right incantations to chant would magically change the world. It would be a chance to be a hero, after all, at no personal risk and with no difficult changes or sacrifices needed. And if it wasn't distracting from real problems, if it wasn't causing real life harm, if it wasn't consuming resources needed for real crises, it would be no worse than carrying a packet of salt in case an emergency space cleansing was suddenly needed. It doesn't surprise me that some people take QAnon to the next level: a sort of live action role playing game made real for them. I've seen this in our community too, once in a while.
Luckily, most of us realize eventually that if there's a crisis, magic is not what is going to be needed on the fly--we will need first aid knowledge, bystander intervention or conflict de-escalation skills, and the ability to stay calm in a crisis. A CPR mask, protective medical gloves, and a cell phone are all more important than a packet of salt in dealing with real life problems.
I'm trying to write a speech today, which naturally means that I want to write anything other than my speech. To be fair, the speech is three-quarters written, but when you are sending people off on a 5 kilometre walk for charity, you really want to nail the ending.
My partner sometimes tells a story of the early days of our relationship. I actually don't remember the conversation, per se, but it is part of the structure of our life together. As the story goes, I sat him down and offered him a simple agreement: we will both agree to say what we mean and we will both agree to believe what the other says. If you say you are OK, I will trust your word. We aren't perfect at this, but it has generally been a helpful guideline by which to live together: a goal of perfect trust.
My partner works in construction - in inspections to be more specific - and he sometimes speaks disparagingly of architects. They are artists, but sometimes fall so much in love with their beautiful vision that they neglect the practical (like electrical panels) and the efficient (like preferring all glass). And the world needs people to imagine beautiful things... as long as there are also some practical people around to tell them that they need to include railings on their balconies, even if that ruins the graceful lines of the building.
As Paganism matures, we have to address a huge range of accessibility issues for our religion: physical accessibility for Pagans with mobility issues, assistance for Pagan parents, audiobooks for Pagans who are blind, sign language interpreters for deaf Pagans, inclusivity for LGBTQ Pagans, a welcoming atmosphere for Pagans of colour, accommodations for Pagans with allergies, and more. Luckily, we have some smart, helpful, welcoming Pagans talking about those issues already:
