Many modern Hellenes have only or primarily a solitary experience when it comes to actual physical observance of festivals, devotions, and other Hellenic practices. Although we all (or surely most of us) look forward to days when group celebrations will be the norm again, we don't need to be depressed about solitary worship.
This afternoon, for instance, I felt inspired to put together a spontaneous celebration of thanks to the gods. So I headed down to the downstairs open porch, hosed a thick blanket of pollen from the cement floor and picnic table, and inventoried to see what I'd need to pick up from the store. Fortunately for my wallet, I had almost everything required within reach (which should generally turn out to be the case for the well-equipped or motivated Hellene) and only really needed a bag of charcoal briquettes for the grill.
[Note: If you are an on-campus college student or for some other reason can't readily manage an open flame, remember two magic words: "George Foreman"!]
Today's observance was somewhere in between the pomp of a formal group festival and the optionally stark simplicity of daily/routine devotional practices. I thawed some chicken and prepared a couple of marinades for it (ranch dressing with peppery spices in one bag, and a blend of two premium tequilas with citrusy spices in the other). Some other complimentary food was prepared in the Mississippi tradition: black-eyed peas and potato sections seasoned with olive oil, butter (margarine), and zesty seasoning.
During all of the preparations, I contemplated the gods and what sort of party they might like. This set the tone for the whole process. When everything started coming together, I prepared the grill. As the flames danced, I poured a glass of sangria for myself and a small libation from the bottle onto the ground near the grill with words to the effect of "Thanks to the gods on this beautiful day." This wasn't a celebration for a particular deity or festival, so I hung my Hellenion messenger bag on the side of the table instead of a representation of a specific god.
During preparations and as the food cooked, I played some music I thought the gods and I could both appreciate and played along on my bongos. (It occurred to me that Zeus can probably appreciate old school reggae because of its boisterous celebration of the overthrow of cruel governing forces.)
I made sure to leave a Promethean offering in the coals, reflecting appreciatively on the good deal Prometheus worked out for us when it comes to suitable offerings to the gods. Just as in ancient days, I left a small portion, mostly inedible, in the fire.
After coal has turned to ash, the remains of the fire will be disposed of in the ash pit we keep in the yard. Even this falls neatly in line with reconstructionism, since ancient archaeological sites reveal ash, bone, and other remains swept off into crags in the rock of hilltop worship sites.
Today's observance is just one of many ways to worship the gods and celebrate life in the Hellenic way. It's up to all of us to find and share more approaches.
Let it be so!