Journaling as a Spiritual Practice

April 2, 2023 By John Beckett

If you ask me about starting a spiritual practice, my recommendations will begin with the “big three” – prayer, mediation, and offerings. I recommend these practices because they’re what I do on a regular basis. Push for more recommendations and I’ll suggest reading and study, following the Sun and the Moon, and spending time outdoors.

This past week I remembered the importance of a lesser known but very valuable spiritual practice: journaling.

I don’t want to dump on all of you, so let’s just say that the last few weeks have been rather stressful for me, in a way that’s made me question some things I thought were settled. The good news is that I’ve been here before – and I wrote about it. I have records in my own words about what was going on, how I felt, and what I did about it.

It took me a bit to find those journal entries. I thought they were from 1994, or maybe 1997. Turns out they were from 2001 – just a few months before my Pagan epiphany (are those two things connected? I never considered it, but looking back on them now, how could they not be connected?).

Here’s what’s important: when I read through what I wrote 22 years ago, my current situation became far more clear. The needs and desires I had then are the same needs and desires I have now. The insecurities I thought were gone were just being managed – the stress of the last few weeks has interfered with that management and allowed them to rise to the surface again.

But how I handled “all this” in 2001 worked. And so I know what I need to do now… with a few tweaks. I have learned a thing or two in the past 22 years, after all.

And part of what I need to do is to share what I’ve learned – about the importance of journaling as a spiritual practice.

photo by John Beckett — Not my journal – I use a computer text file. But if writing in a book like this helps you, then do it.

How to begin a journaling practice

Just start writing.

It really is that simple – even I can’t overcomplicated it. If writing in a fancy blank book with a special pen makes it feel spiritual to you, then get a fancy blank book and a special pen. Three-ring binders and loose leaf paper make it easier to organize by dates and/or themes. My earliest journals were written on lined tablets and placed in manilla folders. I still have them, stored in a metal filing cabinet.

Once I got my own computer I started journaling in text files. I still do. While there are benefits to writing things by hand, almost all my writing is done on a computer – like I’m doing right now with this blog post. This is what I’m comfortable with, so it’s what I do. I can write in my journal at home, at work, or from anywhere on my phone. The files are stored in four different places – I’m not likely to lose them.

Electronic journals can easily be searched. Most times I can find something in a matter of seconds. This time was more complicated – it took about five minutes. I used to be pretty good at flipping through books and files looking for key words, but the computer is far better.

The main thing is to just start writing.

And then keep writing.

What to journal about?

All my journal entries begin with today’s date. And then I write whatever is on my mind that feels important.

Scrolling through this year’s journal (I keep each year in a separate file) I see comments about health, weather, situations at work, politics, travels and travel plans, and especially about how I’m feeling about any and all of that. There are a lot of comments about exercise. In the years where I was trying to run a marathon, at least half my journal is a training log – even though I kept an actual training log in a spreadsheet.

There are accounts of spiritual experiences, thoughts on what they mean, and ideas for what comes next.

And there are plans. Lots of plans. Plans for writing projects, plans for spiritual projects, plans for getting through these difficult times in which we live.

I like making plans. Just making plans helps. Carrying them out helps a lot more. Spontaneity is great, but if you wait for everything to happen spontaneously you’re likely to be waiting a long time. Schedule time for the things that are important to you.

Over the years I’ve learned to identify things that I’m going to want to remember. Some of them I want to remember for my annual year-end retrospectives. Others I know I may need in future years.

Mainly, write about what’s important, to you, right now.

How much to write?

Write as much as you need and no more.

There are stretches where I write two or three paragraphs every day for two weeks. There are other stretches where I don’t write for a week or more.

I can’t easily count how many days I write, but I can easily see that last year I wrote 33,581 words in my journal. That’s a small book… but it’s still less than 100 words a day. My longest journal was 2001: 58,355 words. That’s almost as long as Paganism In Depth. The shortest year was 2012 – I only wrote 6227 words. That’s about five ordinary blog posts… and there are some months with only one entry.

That’s a lot of variance. In general the longer years are from when I was trying to work through some things. The shorter years are from when things were going OK: not so great that I wanted celebrate them and not so bad I needed to analyze them.

If you want advice, I’d say to err on the side of writing too much rather than too little. Honestly, unless it starts to interfere with the rest of your life, it’s hard to write too much.

Write as much as you need and no more.

“Writing myself sane”

I can’t find the origin of the phrase “I wrote myself sane.” I thought it came from Dorothy Parker, but I can’t find any sources for it… and in any case, most of her famous quotes are humorous, even if they deal with serious matters. I don’t think I said it first, but maybe I did. That’s not important.

What’s important is that it’s true.

I should have been in therapy in my late 20s and early 30s. I did try at one point – it didn’t go well and I discontinued it. And then there were those years in my mid-30s that exemplify the saying “before you self-diagnose yourself with depression, first make sure you are not just surrounded by assholes.” When I was able to extract myself from that situation (a bad job in a bad location working with some genuinely bad people) things got better.

In both situations, journaling helped. A lot.

The key to dealing with any problem is to define the problem as clearly and objectively as possible. The best way to do that is to write it down.

And then look at what you wrote. Is it precise or is it vague? Does it describe the root cause or is it swimming in surface issues? Is it honest or does it avoid things you find unpleasant or embarrassing?

Once you’ve got something that’s precise and deep and honest, what can you do about it?

As you work through it, does what you do help? Or do you need to try something else?

I did a good job at identifying the root cause in 2001. Having a record of that makes it a lot easier to find the root cause in 2023.

And to do something to make things better.

Working through what I really believe

Looking over my 2001 journal, I see a lot of spiritual exploration. That epiphany on Thanksgiving night didn’t come out of nowhere. I was trying to answer the call to Paganism that I heard eight years earlier, but I still hadn’t dealt with the baggage of my fundamentalist upbringing. The journaling work put me in the position where I knew I had to act when I heard “get serious or move on.”

A lot of the theological reflections you read on this blog begin in my journal. They start with an idea: sometimes a good idea that needs to be developed, other times a bad idea that needs to be clearly and definitively refuted. Journaling helps me figure out what I believe – what my heart and my head tell me is true. Journaling helps me figure out how to put what I believe into practice.

And then when I do, and when it proves helpful, I’ve got something to share with the world.

The sooner you start, the better

Journaling is no substitute for prayer, meditation, and offerings. But also, prayer, meditation, and offerings are no substitute for journaling.

For all that age brings challenges, it also brings benefits – mainly the benefits of experience. Whatever happens, we’ve seen it before, or we’ve seen something like it before. So we can do a better job of putting it into context and a better job of responding to it.

Memories are good, but memories are fallible. The process is easier with good written records – with a good journal.

The Impossibility of Advanced Spiritual Practice

March 22, 2022 By John Beckett

The first public class I ever taught was Daily Spiritual Practice for Pagans, at the North Texas Pagan Pride Day in 2010. I’ve taught variations on this class many times, and I’m sure I will again. Regular spiritual practice is the foundation of any good religion. The practices vary, but whatever it is you do that makes you a Pagan or a witch or whatever you call yourself, it needs to be done on a regular basis.

Good religion is about what we do, not what we believe. Regular spiritual practice keeps us connected to our highest values, maintains our sacred relationships, and reminds us who and what we are. There is no substitute for regular spiritual practice.

Last year I taught an on-line course called Introduction to Pagan Spiritual Practice – A Polytheist Approach. It was an eleven-week class that covered prayer, meditation, offerings, and other spiritual practices – what we do and how we do it. That class is on-demand – if you’re interested you can take it now.

I just finished teaching Intermediate Spiritual Practice. It covered journeying, the Otherworld, and what to do when people bring their spiritual emergencies to you (if you have skills in this, they’ll find you, one way or another). That course is also on-demand, but you have to take the Introduction course before you can take the Intermediate course.

I haven’t done the follow-up survey for the Intermediate class, but I’ve already had some people asking if I’m going to teach an Advanced Spiritual Practice class. I try to never say never, but I don’t think I can teach a class in Advanced Spiritual Practice. I don’t think anyone can, at least not in the way I understand it.

And I think that’s worth exploring in more depth.

You never outgrow the basics

Our education system tells us we learn the first grade material, then we leave it behind and move on to the second grade material. That’s not really how it works, but our experiences in school leave us with the expectation that we learn something once, and then we don’t have to learn it again.

That’s not the case with spiritual practice. It’s not facts to be memorized or even techniques to be mastered. It’s something we do because it keeps us connected to who and what we are. A class can introduce you to these practices, but then you have to practice them – over and over and over again.

You learn to cook, and then you keep cooking. Over time your skills may improve, but the main thing is that you keep cooking – because you need to eat every day.

Prayer, meditation, offerings, and other spiritual practices are things we do every day, every week, every month, every season. We never outgrow them.

Depth, not breadth

How much instruction do you really need on prayer? Many Pagans need some instruction, because they have inaccurate and unhelpful ideas about prayer – mostly rooted in bad experiences in other religions.

But once you learn the basics of prayer (from a teacher or a book or just from observing healthy examples of prayer) all that’s left is to pray – every day. By saying the same scripted prayers over and over again, the power of their words sink into our souls. By saying extemporaneous prayers over and over again, the sacred desires of our hearts become more and more obvious to us.

Learning from good teachers is wonderful. But to truly learn something – and to learn it in depth – we need to do it regularly for years. We become experts in these few practices – we develop spiritual depth.

Advanced practice is mostly solitary work

What do we mean by Advanced Spiritual Practice, anyway? Are we talking about the kind of depth described in the previous section? Or are we talking about more specialized and more obscure practices?

There is value in arcane practices. They’re no substitute for the basics, but once you’ve built a foundation – and are committed to maintaining it – they can increase your knowledge and skills of spiritual, Otherworldly, and magical matters.

The problem is that most people – including most Pagans – aren’t interested in deep knowledge of spiritual, Otherworldly, and magical matters. Or they think they are, but when they get into it they find that it’s more work than they counted on. Or they find it’s scarier than they imagine.

So you end up doing a lot of this work alone. And much of what you learn comes through your own first-hand experiences, which are always at least slightly different from other people’s experiences.

It’s great when you have someone to do this work with you. I have a very, very few people I do this work with. I’m grateful for their support and companionship. But we’ve struggled teaching it in person – I can’t imagine trying to teach it on-line. If you want to do it, you pretty much just have to do it.

Ground yourself in ordinary practice

My Baptist father used to complain about people who were “so heavenly minded they’re no earthly good.” I’m not sure what the Pagan equivalent of that would be, but if you’ve been doing this stuff for very long, you know people who fit the description. Try not to be one of them.

The best way to do that is to stay grounded in regular spiritual practice. Even better is to be a part of a Pagan group that does ordinary Pagan things: celebrating the seasons, running public rituals, spending time in Nature, and such. For me, this is Denton CUUPS. These people are my co-religionists, but they’re also my friends. They support me in my deeper work and they also keep me grounded in this world.

And no matter how far you go, make sure there is someone you respect enough to listen to their advice. Make sure there’s someone who can tell you “no, you shouldn’t do that.” Even if you become the most expert person in the world on a given topic or practice or tradition, find an elder or a peer in another tradition who can help you along when you need it – because you will need it sooner or later. As Thorn Coyle taught me years ago, beware of teachers who only have students. And don’t become one.

If you ground yourself in ordinary practice, you’ll be able to do deeper work without getting lost between the worlds – both metaphorically and literally.

Go off the map

Here’s the bottom line for authentically deep spiritual practice: there are no maps. There are maps that will get you started. There are maps that will help you go deeper – I wrote two of them. But at some point there are no more books, no more classes, no more teachers. There’s just the open sea and the stars and the wind.

There’s only learning by doing.

Don’t mistake this for “just do whatever feels good.” You have to learn what’s on the map before you can move off the map. Otherwise you’ll be out there on the open sea with no idea how to set a sail or a rudder or figure out where you are by the stars and the sun.

But once you’ve built that foundation of knowledge and skills, go where you’re called to go – even if no one (that you know of, anyway) has been there before.

Take good notes

Journaling is an important spiritual practice on its own. It’s especially important when you’re doing deep spiritual practice.

You won’t figure out everything the first time. Something you experience today may lie dormant inside you for months, and then unexpectedly you’ll suddenly understand its context and meaning. Don’t count on remembering it all, because you can’t. Write it down.

As you figure things out, share what you learn with others. Maybe this means writing a book. Maybe it means starting a blog, or a podcast, or a video series. Maybe it means just sharing your notes with a few close friends.

Increasing the amount of spiritual knowledge in the world is a very good thing to do.

Is there such a thing as Advanced Spiritual Practice?

Basic, Intermediate, and Advanced are loose descriptions. They’re not grades or degrees or any sort of formal hierarchy, and if your goal is simply to move from one level to another, I’m not sure you understand the point of spiritual practice yet.

On the other hand, there is a real difference in the knowledge, skills, and experiences of someone who’s just starting out and those of someone who’s been practicing diligently for years. Wanting to learn and grow is a good thing.

I can show you how to do the things I do. But then you have to go and do them yourself. Over and over again.

How far you go depends on your natural abilities and on your devotion to your practice. And, of course, on the participation of the Gods and spirits you work with, and who work with you.

I presented all the techniques I know in the Basic and Intermediate courses. Now, I’m still practicing. It’s possible I’ll learn or develop new techniques in the coming years. But I expect I’ll be doing what I’ve been doing, only deeper and better.

I love education. My mainstream education served as the foundation for my paying career, which has supported me throughout my adult life. My spiritual education helped me get out of fundamentalism and into this Pagan polytheism that means so much to me.

But at some point, class is over.

At some point, it’s time to go to work.

Blessings and good luck as you follow the path that calls to you, whether it’s well-marked or whether you’re exploring unmarked territory.

Spiritual Practice on Vacation: If You Have To Ask, Don’t

March 6, 2022 By John Beckett

Over on the Patheos General Christian channel, I found this post titled How to Bring God on Vacation With You: 6 Tips.

I’m well aware of how our wider society misuses the term “triggered.” But it’s no exaggeration when I say this post was triggering for me, in the sense of “reliving trauma all over again.”

My family did not take a lot of vacations when I was growing up. We weren’t wealthy by any stretch of the imagination, my father had a large hobby farm that demanded daily attention, and he didn’t see the value in travel for the sake of travel. The few trips we took were almost always to visit relatives.

I remember packing for one trip and my father insisting that I bring a Bible. Now, I did read the Bible occasionally growing up. I was trying to be a good Christian, and I was curious as to what it actually said. But the next to last thing I wanted to do on vacation was to read the Bible. He insisted. So I packed it. And then never opened it.

That was the next to last thing I wanted to do. The last thing I wanted to do was to go to church. We were rarely away from home on Sundays, but the few times we were, my father found a church for us to go to. And not a historically relevant church or a church with a different liturgy or worship style that would have been educational. No, he picked something as close to the small, independent fundamentalist Baptist church we attended at home as he could find.

It was… not fun. Reading this blog post reminded me of just how not fun it was.

And yet…

Here I am, all these years later, and much of my travel is religious in nature. My trips to England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales were vacations, but they all had an element of pilgrimage to them. I’ve had strong religious experiences on these trips, especially in Orkney in 2016.

In 2013 I did the last thing I wanted to do as a kid – I went to church on vacation. My wife and I were in Boston – we attended services at First Parish Cambridge, a UU church founded in 1633. I didn’t feel the need to “go to church” but I wanted the experience of worshipping in a place where people have worshipped continuously for almost 400 years.

In 2018 I was in Wales at the Spring Equinox, and I – along with the rest of my mostly-Pagan traveling party – joined the Anglesey Druid Order for their celebration… outdoors, on a very un-Spring-like cold day.

Perhaps more importantly, the Gods to whom I make weekly offerings have made it clear I don’t get a vacation from that obligation. Allowances and variances are sometimes made, but not making the weekly offerings is simply not an option. Neither is skipping one of my four daily prayers.

My wife occasionally says I ended up more like my father than I want to admit. In some ways I am like him. In other ways, I’m critically different. That’s another topic for another time.

The topic for this time is what wisdom can be extracted from the tension between my traumatic childhood experiences and my deeply meaningful adult experiences of religion and spirituality while on vacation.

1. Keep your commitments

I remember the first time I was on vacation after the Morrigan let me know She wanted weekly offerings. I didn’t really think about it until the usual time came up. I told myself I was on vacation, and besides, it was raining. I heard loudly and clearly “I asked for offerings every week. You have a bottle of wine and a covered porch.” And so I made the usual offerings.

If you’ve made a commitment then keep it. If you promised daily prayers or weekly offerings or meditations at every full moon, then do them no matter where you are.

If your commitment was less specific, or if it’s not a commitment so much as it’s just what you do, then use your best judgment.

But keep your promises, even if you have to adjust your plans so you can.

pouring an offering of water to the spirits of the land – Northern Ireland – 2016

2. Don’t drag others into your commitments

I don’t have children and I do my best to not tell other people how to raise theirs. But I was a child once, and I have a long memory. You have the right – and arguably, the obligation – to introduce your children to your religious tradition. But as they begin to grow up, either they embrace that tradition willingly or they don’t. If they don’t, your primary obligation is to support them as they find what’s right for them.

And remember that just being in some religious traditions is child abuse.

My wife is not Pagan, but what’s religiously significant for me is usually historically significant for her – we often enjoy the same things for slightly different reasons. I greatly appreciate her patience and support when I have to do something devotional, and I do my best to keep from dragging her into something she doesn’t want to do.

3. If you need a break, take it

The whole concept of vacation is to change up your routine, to take a break from your ordinary life. This isn’t a luxury – it’s a necessity. It’s why liturgical calendars often include times of inversion, when the social order is turned upside down… for a day or two. It’s why we have intercalary times and liminal times, like from Winter Solstice through New Year’s Day.

During these special times, we often eat special foods but we don’t stop eating, because we need to eat to live. If your spiritual practice is like eating to you, then you’ll find a way to maintain it. If it’s not, then it’s OK to take a break from it.

4. But don’t forget to pick it up again

I do my best to exercise regularly. When things are going well it’s not a chore – it’s something I enjoy in and of itself, not just because “it’s good for me.” But sometimes I need a break. I overdo it and I’m exhausted. I get sick. The weather is horrid, and not just in the “wear better clothes” sense. Particularly as I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned that while there’s a time to power through, there’s also a time to say “I need to rest today.”

The challenge is to make sure a day or two of rest doesn’t turn into a week on the couch.

It’s the same with spiritual practice. The good news is that vacations have clearly marked beginnings and endings, so you know when it’s time to get back to it.

Just make sure you do.

5. Do there what you can’t do here

I can attend a UU Sunday service every week at home. What I can’t do here is attend a UU service with an almost 400 year old congregation in an almost 200 year old building, like I did at First Parish in 2013.

There are some unique churches in this country, but there are no 800 year old cathedrals. I enjoy touring the cathedrals of Europe. Even though I’m a Pagan I’d like to attend services in one of them at some point.

My strongest experiences of the Morrigan have been in my back yard here in Texas. I can pray to Her anywhere – and I do. But I can’t experience Her traditional home anywhere but at Rathcroghan, in Ireland.

And one of these years I want to celebrate the Summer Solstice with the Anglesey Druid Order, even though the sun rises there at 4:48 AM.

“Taking a break” doesn’t have to mean forgetting about your religion and spirituality. When you set aside some or all of your routine, pick up the things you can do where you’re going that you can’t do where you live. If nothing else, you can make offerings to the spirits of the place where you’re visiting to thank them for their hospitality.

6. Do what’s best for you

Reading the Christian post that inspired this one was painful. It reminded me that while I’ve been able to exorcise the tentacles of fundamentalist doctrine from my soul, the wounds it caused are still there.

Writing this post reminded me that I haven’t thrown the baby of religion out with the dirty bathwater of fundamentalism. Despite that trauma, I have a healthy and meaningful spiritual practice and religious life.

In other words, I won.

Keeping your religious commitments on vacation can be a challenge, but with planning and adjustments it can be done, and done well. Where you don’t have commitments, do what seems best for you. We all need a break from our routines from time to time.

Mainly, take advantage of travel and time away from work to do what you can’t do in ordinary times.

And enjoy your vacation, whether it’s small or large or anywhere in between.

Introduction to Pagan Spiritual Practice – A Polytheist Approach

August 24, 2021 By John Beckett

The fifth online course from Under the Ancient Oaks is now open for registration. Introduction to Pagan Spiritual Practice – A Polytheist Approach begins on September 9 and will run for eleven weeks.

What is it that we do that makes us Pagans? For me, it begins with speaking to my Gods in prayer, listening to Them in meditation, and maintaining respectful relationships with Them through offerings.

And also, it’s my relationships with the natural world: following the Sun and the Moon, gazing at the night sky, watching the birds and talking to the rabbits, and observing the changing seasons.

This class will cover the daily, weekly, monthly, and seasonal practices that form the foundation of my Pagan polytheist religion and spirituality. This is what I’ve been doing over the last 20 years or so that keeps me connected to my Gods, to Nature, and to the wider world. I’m honored to share it with you.

The Modules

0. Introduction (free)
1. Polytheist Foundations
2. Altars and Shrines
3. Prayer
4. Meditation
5. Offerings
6. Reading and Study
7. Relationships With the Natural World
8. Grounding and Energy Work
9. Worship and Liturgy
10. Building a Liturgical Calendar
11. Commitment, Persistence, and Will

The Details

As with the previous classes, the Spiritual Practice class will be on-demand. Video classes will be released once a week – do them on your own schedule. Most of the modules will be shorter than previous classes: 20 to 30 minutes instead of 50 to 60 minutes. Rather than combining topics to keep the usual length, I think it’s better to cover less material in each module. That lets you watch the video, put the material into practice, absorb it, and then get ready for the next topic.

Module 0 – the syllabus module – is available now. Module 1 will go up September 9, and a new module every week after that. The final module goes up November 18, which is a week before the U.S. Thanksgiving holiday.

There will be homework for this class – mainly doing the practices we cover, and keeping a journal about your experiences with them. I don’t think it would be helpful for me to review your journal (how can I evaluate someone else’s prayers?) so there will be no assignments to turn in this time.

Instead, this class will include a series of video Q&As. You send me your questions – I answer them on video and post it for all the participants.

Of course, if you have private questions, I’ll answer them privately.

K.D. Echols has once again graciously agreed to provide written transcripts for those with hearing difficulties, and for those who like to read as well as listen.

This course will be a prerequisite for Intermediate Spiritual Practice early next year

Any of the current UTAO courses may be taken in any order. That’s going to change after this class.

When I finished outlining what I do and therefore what I can teach about Pagan spiritual practice, there was a clear break between the introductory material and what I consider intermediate material. It makes sense to break it up into two classes, but that means everyone who takes the Intermediate course will need to complete the Introductory course first.

This will insure we have a common understanding of basic practices when we start Course 6 next year. It also means I won’t have to include any reviews of foundational materials in the Intermediate Practice course.

Costs and Registration

Registration is open now. Send me an e-mail or use the contact form on the Under the Ancient Oaks website and tell me you want to sign up. I’ll send you a PayPal invoice. Once you pay it, I’ll register you for the class. Most times this will be done within 24 hours, but if you catch me while I’m occupied it may take longer.

The cost is the same as the first four courses: $50 for the entire course.

A limited number of scholarships are available for those experiencing financial difficulties. If you’d like to apply for a scholarship, just ask. I’ll take applications until September 4, and I’ll hold all applications until then. I’ll notify everyone of their application status by September 6.

If you’re in good financial shape, I hope you’ll consider sponsoring a scholarship. Each sponsorship fully funds one scholarship student, and it also counts toward the paid registrations that determine how many scholarships I can fund.

Questions?

If you have any questions, contact me here or at any of the usual places.

Spiritual Practice in Difficult Times

August 13, 2021 By John Beckett

As difficult as things have been in recent months, I shudder to think how difficult they would be if I didn’t have a regular spiritual practice.

Now, there are two misconceptions about spiritual practice (and spiritual people) in our mainstream society. The first is that if you’re truly spiritual and if your practice is truly devout, you’ll be protected by your God or Gods and you’ll never experience anything bad. And conversely, if you do experience something bad, it means you’ve “sinned” and “fallen out of grace.” These false and harmful ideas come from Calvinism – they have no place in our Pagan and polytheist religions… or in any other helpful religion.

The second misconception is that if you’re truly spiritual, bad things won’t bother you. They may happen, but you’ll be so “spiritual” that you’ll transcend it all. This is spiritual bypassing. That term is usually connected to the New Age movement, but my Baptist father used to complain about people who were “so heavenly minded they’re no earthly good.”

Good, robust, regular spiritual practice doesn’t excuse us from the harsh realities of life. But it does equip us to better deal with those realities and to keep them from derailing our lives.

Here’s what a regular spiritual practice can do for you.

It helps you keep moving

The key to regular spiritual practice is the regular part. When you do something every day, every day, every day, it becomes part of your life. It provides stability and familiarity even in times that are strange and disruptive.

Recently I’ve observed a Twitter argument about discipline, with some practitioners emphasizing the need to be disciplined in our practices, and others arguing that discipline is bad because the alt-right makes such a big deal about it.

The alt-right – including the Pagan alt-right – overemphasizes discipline because they value hierarchy over freedom and conformity over diversity. But that doesn’t diminish the value of discipline – of doing the right things consistently even if you don’t feel like doing them.

Pray, meditate, make offerings, observe the changing seasons. This is what we do. This is who we are. We do these things when they’re easy, and we do them when they’re hard.

And in doing so, we keep moving when it would be all too easy to quit.

It maintains our spiritual relationships

All relationships require time and attention – they require work. This is true for our families, our neighbors, our co-workers, and our co-religionists. And it’s true for our Gods, ancestors, and other spiritual allies.

My nightly prayers and my weekly offerings keep me connected to Cernunnos, to the Morrigan, and to the other deities I work for and with. They help me to hear Their voices over the roar of daily life.

My Gods have work They want me to do – spiritual practice keeps me focused on that work. My ancestors survived circumstances worse than mine – spiritual practice helps me draw on their strength. I share the land with the spirits of this place – spiritual practice reminds me that this is their home too.

None of these relationships “fix” the things that are broken in my life and in our world. But they let me know that I’m not in this alone, and that makes a huge difference.

Reinforce your highest values

Some values are so obviously the right thing we can’t imagine why anyone would do anything else. But most of our values are learned from schools and churches, from watching others, and absorbed from the mainstream culture.

That’s the same mainstream culture that acts as though might makes right, that believes the only worth anyone or anything has is their monetary worth, that says there’s only one God and acts like there are no Gods, and that finds its identity in mindless entertainment.

We have to live in the mainstream world (unless you want to become a hermit, which I don’t recommend, even though it’s getting more and more attractive all the time). The key is to reinforce our Pagan and polytheist values: hospitality, reciprocity, perseverance, heroism, and especially building a better world for those who come after us.

Regular spiritual practice keeps our Pagan values at the center of our attention – where they belong.

Spiritual practice helps us accept reality

This likely seems counterintuitive to our atheist friends, but it’s true nonetheless. The more we develop a regular practice, the stronger our spiritual relationships and the stronger our values, and the greater our appreciation of facts and truth. That makes us far less likely to get tied up in conspiracy theories, mindlessly buy into advertising schemes, or take politicians at face value.

This has been critically important for me, particularly over the past 10 months or so. And I’m not just talking about the Covid deniers and the fools who think Trump won the election.

The anchor provided by regular spiritual practice reminds me that nothing in life is risk-free. Some risks are necessary and others aren’t. Some risks are good bets and others are very bad bets. And when you have very important things to do, you figure out how to do them in a way that maximizes your odds of a favorable outcome.

Spiritual practice helps us deal with the current reality

We’re still in the worst pandemic in over a century. I genuinely thought we would be done with it by now, but the Delta variant – enabled by those who refuse to be vaccinated – has other ideas. We’ll never be completely done with Covid-19 (the Spanish Flu is still around) but at some point the infection rate will subside… I just have no idea when that will be. Meanwhile, we do what we have to do to protect ourselves and those around us.

And also, this is Tower Time. I tend to focus on the spiritual and Otherworldly aspects of Tower Time, but the this-world aspects are here for all to see, including the pandemic, climate change and its impacts, and the decline of the Anglo-American empire.

I taught an online class on Tower Time earlier this year. In the final module, I asked the participants “what’s worth fighting for?”

Regular spiritual practice reminds us what’s worth fighting for – and what isn’t.

Coming in September: Introduction to Pagan Spiritual Practice – A Polytheist Approach

Over the years I’ve blogged a lot about spiritual practice. Here are a few of the more recent posts:

Maintaining a Spiritual Practice in Difficult Times (February 2021)

Beginning Spiritual Practices and Studies (May 2020)

Learning to Pray from a Pagan Perspective (May 2020)

Meditation: A Pagan Approach to a Universal Practice (January 2018)

7 Spiritual Practices for Difficult Times (May 2017)

I thought I had said all I needed to say about the subject. But in the post-class survey for the Tower Time class, by far the most frequent request for a future class was devotion. If I include ontology, theology, and ecstatic practices, spiritual practice was an overwhelming majority.

So the next Under the Ancient Oaks online course will be “Introduction to Pagan Spiritual Practice: A Polytheist Approach.” It will cover topics like altars and shrines, prayer, meditation, offerings, grounding and energy work, building your own liturgical calendar, and more.

Look for more details when Module 0 (the introduction and syllabus module, which is free to all) goes up next Tuesday.

Maintaining a Spiritual Practice in Difficult Times

February 11, 2021 By John Beckett

Another question from the latest Conversations Under the Oaks is something I think we can all relate to.

How do you keep up your spiritual practice when you generally feel stressed and overwhelmed every other week due to life’s circumstances?

I know the simple answer is that that is exactly the reason it is important to keep up the work, but sometimes you get to a point where even simple prayer times seem like too much and you just want to watch YouTube or go to bed.

As the questioner says, the simple answer is that this is why we do these things in the first place. It’s easier to start and solidify a spiritual practice in ordinary times. Not necessarily good times (those can be rare and fleeting) but the times when life is going as life usually does. Build a solid foundation that will support you when times get hard.

But what if you didn’t? Fundamentalist religions like to scare people by telling them to adopt their religion “before it’s too late.” It’s never too late to do the right thing, or to start doing the right thing. If you just started a practice before the pandemic hit, you haven’t had much time for it to develop.

Or perhaps you’ve had a regular spiritual practice for years, but you’re overwhelmed anyway. Daily prayers and meditations are helpful, but they can’t prevent bad things from happening to us.

Perfection is not required

Life happens. As I often say, it’s hard to be spiritual when your roof is leaking. The urgency of a leaking roof overwhelms your desire to meditate and pray and do all the things you usually do. Even when you’ve done all you can do to mitigate the situation, it’s still there and it’s hard to get in the right frame of mind for devotion and other spiritual practices.

It’s OK to not be perfect. It’s essential that you take care of your physical and emotional needs, otherwise you won’t be able to do much of anything, spiritual or otherwise. Early last year I wrote The Morrigan Demands Persistence Not Perfection. That’s true of most other deities as well.

We’re still in a pandemic. The real economy is still struggling. Fascists, racists, and other bigots didn’t disappear on January 20. And the ordinary difficulties of life are still very much with us. Dealing with all these things takes time and energy, and our time and energies are not unlimited. If you have to skip something now and then, that’s OK.

Pick it up again right away

The problem with setting something aside is that once we do, our normal state of affairs goes from “doing it” to “not doing it.” After a while, it no longer bothers us that we aren’t doing our spiritual practices anymore. That makes it that much harder to pick it up again when whatever got in our way is lessened.

It’s like exercise. We know we need to exercise, and once we find something we like doing it’s fun, even if it’s sometimes challenging. If we’re sick or injured we can’t exercise, and that’s OK. But it’s one thing to pick it up again after a day or two off – it’s much harder to get back to walking or running or lifting after two or three weeks, much less two or three months.

So skip a day if you have to. But pick it up again the next day, or the day after, or as soon as you can. Because the longer you go, the harder it’s going to be to get going again.

Will is required

As some point, going with the flow is no longer sufficient. At some point, will is required.

“This is what I’m called to do.” “This is what I need to do.” “This is what I want to do.” “This is what I will do.”

And then you do it. It may be difficult. It may unsatisfying. It may be a 20 second rote prayer instead of a five minute heart-felt communion with your Gods. But it’s something. The people who say “if you can’t do it whole-heartedly don’t do it at all” are wrong. That’s a recipe for giving up. Better to do it halfway than to not do it, because it’s a lot easier to get from partial practice to full practice than to get from no practice to any practice.

And if you do some practice, you’ll get some benefits. No practice means no benefits. Something is better than nothing.

Stick to the basics

I can’t tell you how much I’ve fallen back into familiar and comfortable things over the past year. I’m watching the same movies and TV shows over and over again. I’m listening to the same music. I’m eating the same food and drinking the same drinks. In a time when nothing is familiar, I want familiar comforts.

My daily prayers haven’t changed. My weekly offerings haven’t changed. My Gods have asked me for a few new things from time to time, but mostly what I hear is “just keep moving.”

Or try something new

Sometimes starting something new requires energy and commitment that are in short supply. But other times starting something new provides inspiration, which raises energy and enthusiasm.

Is there something you’ve been wanting to start? Something you’ve been wanting to try?

Go say prayers in a city park. Make offerings to the land spirits at the largest tree you can find. Find a labyrinth and go walk it. Get a new statue or other artwork to serve as a focus for prayer or contemplation.

This is usually easier when dealing with stale devotion rather than being overwhelmed. But if you have the time and other resources, trying something new can help you deal with stress as well.

Some people don’t have a choice

Most times for most people, our Gods are understanding. They are wise and They know what we are and aren’t capable of doing. They aren’t going to get angry if we skip a day or two.

Most times. Most people. But not all.

Some people have made commitments – or had commitments made for them – that require them to perform certain practices every day, every week, every month, without exception. Sickness, stress, leaky roofs – none of that matters. They do what they’ve committed to do without fail.

If you’re one of those people, you don’t need me to tell you what to do. You know, with clarity and with certainty.

If you know one of these people, support them if you can. But do not feel like you must live up to their standards. You are responsible for keeping your own oaths and promises, not the oaths and promises made by someone else.

The benefits of spiritual practice come from repetition

Christian philosopher and theologian Søren Kierkegaard said “prayer does not change God, but him who prays.” As a Pagan and a polytheist, I have issues with the first part of that quote. But the second part of it is unquestionably true, no matter what your religious persuasion.

Spiritual practice changes us. These changes are slow and gradual – usually so slow and gradual we don’t notice them until we’ve been doing them for a long time and then look back to see how far we’ve come. I’ve been doing this consistently for 19 years – my practice has been a source of strength over the past year. And even with all that, there have been times when it’s been a struggle. I haven’t always done everything I planned to do, and sometimes that’s been because I was overloaded and just needed to rest.

And so I rested, and then I picked it up again the next time.

I wish you well in your spiritual practice, no matter how hard or easy it is at the moment.

Beginning Spiritual Practices and Studies

May 5, 2020 By John Beckett

This round of Conversations Under the Oaks had lots of questions about beginning spiritual practices. I’ve written about most of these topics before: there’s a chapter on spiritual practice in The Path of Paganism, and another chapter in Paganism in Depth. Still, they’re worth revisiting on the blog from time to time, if only to emphasize that while these are basic practices, they aren’t just for beginners. As we learn and grow, we don’t outgrow prayer and meditation and such – we maintain them and we build on them.

How can I develop a regular meditation practice?

The first step is to figure out what kind of meditation you want to practice. The mindfulness meditation practiced by our Buddhist friends is one way, but it’s not the only way. There’s also contemplative mediation, Nature meditation, walking meditation, and what I generically call “listening.” I covered all of these in Meditation: A Pagan Approach to a Universal Practice.

The key to a successful meditation practice is in the question: make it regular. Do it every day, ideally at the same time every day. I’ve seen meditation teachers say the best time is first thing in the morning, others that the best time is late in the evening, and still others that the best time is mid-afternoon. Different times have different advantages, but the main thing is to pick a time that works for you.

Start small. There are benefits from meditating even three minutes a day. Do what you can do, then build on it. Ideally that will be somewhere between 15 and 30 minutes a day, but that’s something you can figure out as you go. Don’t try to do too much at first – you’ll just get frustrated and quit.

Three minutes a day every day is better than 30 minutes twice a week. Find something that reminds you to stop and meditate every day. You can always set a reminder on your phone.

If you miss a day, whether from illness or forgetfulness or busyness or anything else, simply pick it back up again the next day.

If you can meditate for just a few minutes every day for three weeks, the habit will be formed and maintaining the practice will be much easier.

Could you suggest where I might learn more about land spirits and elementals?

I got started with the elements and elemental spirits with Scott Cunningham’s Earth Power – Techniques of Natural Magic (1983). It’s an extremely basic book, but it was helpful to me when I was a raw beginner. A deeper book is The Elements of Ritual: Air, Fire, Water & Earth in the Wiccan Circle by Deborah Lipp (2003). This is the best exposition of the mythology and practice of Wiccan liturgy I’ve come across. If you want something newer, Mat Auryn has a chapter on “The Elemental Forces” in his new book Psychic Witch: A Metaphysical Guide to Meditation, Magick & Manifestation (2020).

There is a ritual to call the Spirits of the Elements and the Directions in Chapter 3 of The Path of Paganism (2017).

As for land spirits, my best suggestion is to go outside where you live and introduce yourself. Practice good hospitality – bring an offering. Clean water is best, especially to start. Remember that they were there long before you – the fact that a piece of paper in the courthouse says you own the land means little to them. What matters to them is how you act. Show them you respect them and the land and they will respect you in return… eventually. Each situation is different, but this is a process that generally takes months or years, not days or weeks.

Many modern Pagans have an uneasy relationship with the land and the spirits of the land, for a wide variety of reasons. This uneasiness can keep us from building the kind of deep, reciprocal relationships we need. I addressed this in a UU Sunday Service last year titled Connecting To The Land Where You Are – that service was a condensation of a longer workshop I gave at several Pagan gatherings. It doesn’t address land spirits directly, but it does cover many of the things we need to do to prepare to meet our local land spirits.

Many times authors assume the reader is familiar with various spiritual practices and techniques. Some of these are easy to find (such as grounding and centering), but others have proven more difficult (building energy, contemplative meditation). What kind of resources can you consult when you need help with something like this?

That’s a huge challenge for authors and especially for bloggers. How do you make sure readers know everything they need to know to fully understand and participate in what you’re writing about, without becoming repetitious and boring everyone silly? That’s why I put a lot of in-line links in my posts.

All beginners need three 101-level books. That not only covers a wider range of topics than any one book, but it also brings in multiple perspectives. After you’ve read three (three good ones, that is) start moving deeper. One of the best ways to do that is to check the bibliographies of your entry level books. What sources do those authors reference?

Google can be helpful in finding more specific information, but you don’t need me to tell you that there’s a lot of crap on the internet. Being popular with search engines doesn’t necessarily mean something is accurate.

Use the search blocks on Patheos blogs. I’ve been blogging for going on 12 years – there’s a good chance I’ve written something about it. Jason Mankey has been blogging even longer. Mat Auryn does more book reviews than anyone else I know.

When all else fails, ask someone you trust. That’s one of the reasons I have these Conversations Under the Oaks from time to time.

Many polytheists suggest reading scholarly works related to the Gods you might want to follow. I’ve had trouble finding academic research via Google. Where else would you recommend I go searching for this kind of information?

This is harder to do because there isn’t good scholarly work on all the Gods, and very little from a polytheist perspective. In general, the more material we have from ancient times, the more academic work that’s been done. Thus you can find a fair amount on Egyptian or Greek deities. Not so much on Norse or Celtic ones.

Start with what you can find. If there’s a Pagan Portals book on the deity in question, that’s a good place to start. Again, check the bibliographies. If you can find a priest or other devotee of the deity, ask them for recommendations.

Aside from the Stations of The Year (the High Days) how often should one perform rituals focused on Nature and the Gods?

As often as seems right to you, or as often as They tell you to.

Seriously – there is no standard frequency. I’ve been praying to a small set of deities every night for almost ten years. I have four rounds of weekly offerings, each to a different person or set of persons. This year I’ve started regular observances of the full moons, though that more for working magic than for devotion.

None of these were part of any sort of monastic rule or overarching plan. I added each of them because they seemed right at the time, they became part of my regular practice, and so I’ve kept doing them.

As always, it’s better to do fewer things well than to do more things haphazardly. Find the frequency that works for you.

How do you balance worship among multiple deities? What does that daily worship consist of?

It helps to remember that Gods are individual persons. Balance your relations with Them the same way you balance your relations with your immediate family, your extended family, your friends and neighbors, your coworkers and professional colleagues, and such. Honor and respect each one for who and what They are as individuals.

These are the five Gods on my primary altar. I occasionally address Them as a group, but I call each One’s name in prayer each night. I make weekly offering to the Morrigan and to Cernunnos. I honor each of Them on days devoted specifically for Them, such as February 1 for Brighid and August 1 for Lugh.

I have a different but very long relationship with some of the Gods of Egypt. I almost never worship Them at the same time as my primary five. I honor Them in Their way and Their times.

Basically, worshipping and/or working with multiple deities means giving each of Them what They need and want, and never forgetting that They’re individuals.

Growing Your Magical and Spiritual Practice: Repetition Matters

March 31, 2019 By John Beckett

I once heard a story about an art professor who divided his class into two groups on the first day of the semester. The first group only had to produce one piece all semester. They could research materials and techniques, plan carefully, and take their time with the creation process. Their final grade depended on how good that one piece was. The second group would be graded solely on quantity – their grades would be determined by how many pieces they turned in, regardless of quality.

At the end of the semester they had a show, and the final pieces of the “quantity only” group were consistently better than the works of the group who were given the whole semester to work on just one thing. That’s because they learned something every time they made a piece of art that helped them make the next piece just a bit better.

This story is probably more apocryphal than historical, but there’s an important truth in it: repetition matters. And it’s as true in our spirituality and in our magic as it is in our arts and crafts.

Greek Oil Jars – 500 BCE – The Hunt Museum, Limerick, Ireland

Learning is an on-going process

Our digital society sometimes gives us the impression that learning is like downloading: you go from “I don’t know how to do this” to “I can do this as well as anyone” after reading one book or watching one video. For small tasks it can be that simple. I didn’t know how to reset the maintenance reminder on my car. So I looked it up on the internet and now I can do it as well as any certified mechanic.

I can change the oil as well as any certified mechanic too. But I can’t do it anywhere close to as fast, because I haven’t done it often enough. Repetition matters. And I can’t change a timing chain at all, because I don’t know how to do it.

Writers often quote Ray Bradbury, who said “everyone’s first million words are crap.” Mine certainly were – go read some of my blog posts from 2008 and 2009. Not all of that is crap, but it’s certainly not as well-written as what I’m writing now. My best guess is that I hit a million words (lifetime, not just on the blog) somewhere in 2011. I can see a noticeable shift in my writing before and after that time. Repetition matters.

Fail fast

“Fail fast” is a cliché in the business world. It recognizes that when you’re trying to do something that’s never been done before, you probably aren’t going to get it right the first time. Emotionally prepare yourself for the reality that you’re almost certainly going to fail the first time you try. But like the second group of art students in the opening story, fail quickly, evaluate your failures, and figure out how to do better on your next try.

Not all fast failure is the same. If those art students just slapped some paint on a canvas so they would have something to turn in, they wouldn’t learn much. But failing and then learning why you failed helps you do better next time. You may fail on your second try as well, but then you’ll learn more. Eventually you’ll succeed.

Failing fast helps maintain optionality. That’s a phrase I learned from Gordon White in The Chaos Protocols.

Make peace with the cognitive reality that you both probably do not really know what you want and definitely do not know the correct way to achieve it from the outset, so re-examine your options at each step and be open to the hitherto-unanticipated route.

The more often you do something, the better you can evaluate whether or not it’s something you really want, and the better you’ll get at figuring out the best way to do it.

Wine Jugs – National Museum of Ireland, Dublin

Practice magic regularly

All of the above is true when it comes to magic. Reading a book or taking a class will help you get started in the right direction. And if you do the spells properly, you’ll get results, even if it’s your first time.

But despite all the exquisitely detailed spell books you can buy ranging from Silver Ravenwolf to the Greek Magical Papyri, effective magic requires much more than simply following directions. Most of them assume a certain level of expertise (“cast the circle using the usual method”) and few if any of them address the most basic question of all: what to work magic for.

If you want to get good at magic, it takes practice. It takes working spell after spell after spell. Necessity is a great motivator, but if you want to be a professional magician, you have to work magic before you have a need. Do that and when the need finally comes, you’ll have the knowledge and skills to do what needs to be done, quickly and effectively.

If you practice magic often enough you will make mistakes. Ever since “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” in 1797 we’ve been taught that if we step outside of what we know Bad Things will happen.

Like all mistakes, magical mistakes can be painful. But painful mistakes can also be good learning experiences. So can learning to assess risks and take proper precautions. As Feri Tradition founder Victor Anderson said “anything worthwhile is dangerous.” As his student Thorn Coyle added “not everything dangerous is worthwhile.” Learn to tell the difference.

If I need magical help, I’m not going to the oldest witch or to the witch with the biggest library. I’m going to the witch who gets her hands dirty week in and week out. Repetition matters.

Consistent spiritual practice

Daily spiritual practice is the core of any good religion. Meditation, prayer, offerings, following the sun and moon – whatever it is that you do to stay connected to your Gods, your tradition, and your values. Do it every day. Repetition matters. Consistency matters. Diligence and persistence matter.

If you’re starting a practice, choose what you’re going to do. Build a foundation. Begin a devotional practice. And keep it up.

My experience is that it takes about three weeks – 21 days – of doing something every day with no exceptions for a practice to become a habit. If you aren’t doing it every day (either intentionally, as with a weekly practice, or because you just don’t get it done every day) it’s going to take longer.

Do it long enough and it will become second nature. More importantly, the connections and the values your practice supports will grow and strengthen. Talk to your Gods every day and They’ll be easy to find when times get hard. Wait till times get hard and you may not be able to find Them.

All skills fade with inconsistent use

“It’s just like riding a bike – once you learn, you’ll always be able to do it.”

I didn’t learn to ride a bike till I was an adult, but that cliché was still true. Once I got it, I had it. I’ve gone years without riding, then hopped back on and went pedaling merrily down the street.

What I can’t do, however, is hop on and ride for 20 miles, like I could when I was riding a couple times a week (in addition to running regularly). I can’t go as fast, including going downhill. I can’t maneuver around obstacles very well. My bicycling skills have faded with inconsistent use.

What skills do you need in your magical and spiritual life? Learn them, and then practice them regularly.

What skills do you need in your ordinary life? Learn them, and then practice them regularly.

Repetition matters.