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I knock on wood from habit and superstition. But lately the act has taken on both a Pagan and a Buddhist resonance for me.

Trees stand up like us but are taller and more grounded. Even so we are intimately linked: trees breathe out what we need to breathe in, and we return the favour. Trees are witness to our short lives and beacons directing our attention both above and below.

One of the things about spirituality is that without some effort, it can become a bit…navel-gazing.

It’s not a failing, nor anyone’s fault. What we do through our religious paths helps us to grow, heal, and cultivate joy, all of which are internal things. They help us to build community, too, which adds to happiness and contentment in life.

There are lots of ways to connect with the people of ancient cultures. They were ordinary humans just like us, so they cooked food and used cosmetics and celebrated the changing seasons. 

They also had jobs. Yep, they Did Stuff every day just like we do. What kinds of occupations did the Minoans have?

About a week after my housemate wished for her own cat, this cat appeared. When I first saw him he was on the front walkway, and I snapped this photo thinking he would probably walk away after that. Nope. He walked right into the house and made himself at home. 

This is amazing because my cat Happy usually runs off any other cats that enter his territory. He usually hides from strange people and dogs, too. Anything rat-sized is dinner, of course. But Happy tolerated this new cat. He only got hissy when the new cat jumped up on the bed where Happy and I were sleeping. Otherwise he was remarkably laid-back about the whole other cat thing. It's like magic. It IS magic. Freya magic.

It is my ritual of Autumn Equinox to bury a small clay doll. She represents part of me that sinks into the deep dark of the winter months. Deep in the underworld, she is nestled under the soil, among sleeping tree roots.

This ritual only started a few years ago as normally I would symbolically bury her in a large black clay cauldron. In 2019 I took her with me while visiting home and on the Island of Eigg I followed a dream and buried her in the soil.

One of the more challenging aspects of developing a new spiritual tradition is having to figure out what you need terms for and what those terms should be.

I was in the middle of writing a child blessing ritual for the upcoming second edition of Ariadne's Thread (release date: May 15) and realized I needed a term for Modern Minoan Paganism folx to use, a word for the kind of person Christians call godparents: the close family friend who will have a special place in the life of a child as they grow up.

I was swept away by the healing ritual, chanting with a hundred others as we worked with the energy of Isis. My friend from the other side of Paganism, however, was aghast. 

“You invoke the gods and then do nothing for them. You’re not even properly grateful.” For her the gods existed externally and needed to be honoured and thanked, not used as props in a psychodrama. I just knew that the ritual had worked. I felt alive and uplifted.

As I fumbled to explain, she asked in exasperation, “I mean, what exactly do you believe?”

Well, I don’t. Believe that is.