Which is what I've had, with so many things of late. Again I find myself questioning my place under the big umbrella marked "Paganism," as I look around and feel myself insufficiently upfucked to claim common ground with many of my ostensible co-religionists. Rather than nodding my head in wonder and agreement, I find myself shaking my head in lieu of shaking actual people and asking them "Do you hear yourself? Do you know how you sound? At what point did you and reality part ways?"
But of course, this is nothing new. I've felt this way often enough over the past two decades. In my LiveJournal profile I use the line "too stuffy for the fluffies and too fluffy for the stuffies" to describe myself, and I still think that's a very accurate summation. The more conservative pagans seem like utter fascists to me, while their ultra-accepting counterparts look like they've opened their minds so far that their brains have fallen out. Opinions are thrust forth on both sides that are so comically over-the-top goofy that it's hard for me to believe that the people positing them aren't just trolling.
(Somewhere in the back of my mind, Gerry Rafferty and Stealer's Wheel are singing gleefully: Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right, and here I am--stuck in the middle...!")
My partner and I are taking the mostly solitary route these days. For my sanity, and my spiritual health, it seems wisest. I'm still considering doing some open rituals for the Iseum, but I'm not in any hurry at this point. My energy is better spent tending my own hearthfire right now, rather than on outreach.