Inscriptions on the walls of the Cenacle in Jerusalem are shedding new light on pilgrims' journeys and beliefs.

Humans have been celebrating the harvest for as long as we have been growing plants to feed ourselves with. The pagan sabbat of Mabon takes place on the Autumn Equinox, and has been observed for thousands of years. On this day, there is an equal amount of sunlight and darkness, making it a stunning example of the balance and cyclical ways of nature (which makes this a perfect day to embrace your own halves and wholeness—both the darkness and the lighter parts of yourself). It is often called the

Using moonwater can be a powerful way to center yourself and connect with the lunar phases, and what better time to do that than the summer? The nights are warmer (depending on where you are on the globe), the fireflies glow with the stars, and it’s generally the best weather for moon gazing. The moon controls a lot on our planet, including the tides of the ocean (which supplies us with half of the oxygen that we breathe), so learning more about it is a beautiful way to practice environmental ci

Celebrating the seasons and the natural cycles of the Earth is a beautiful way to live mindfully and strengthen our relationship with the natural world (and therefore, with ourselves). The summer solstice is coming up, and it’s a perfect time to dive in to this practice. The solstice has been observed since the dawn of time. “Sol” means sun, and “Stitium” means to stop, and because people saw the sun moving slower in the sky, it appeared to be still. Ancient Egyptians used it to help predict whe

Witchcraft doesn’t have to be entirely woo woo. It’s rooted in Paganism, which is also what a lot of our modern knowledge of the Earth is rooted in (as well as our “American” holidays, traditions, and cultural nuances). Yes, witchcraft can involve crystals, astrology, and other “unscientific” ideas, but most of it revolves around an important, and scientifically backed ideal of self-care— intention. Being intentional about your life is the bottom line of witchcraft. It can be really fun to inco

After leaving a high-demand Christian religion, December became a confusing time of year for me. Suddenly I felt really out of place during a time of year that I used to love. I felt like the holidays didn’t have room for me, and if I celebrated anything at all, I’d be a fraud. It was a pretty triggering month at that point, and it took away a lot of the goodness that this festive holiday time used to bring me. That first December after leaving the religion, I ended up just celebrating how all

Spring is just about here. The planet is waking up after a long winter sleep, and everything is coming alive. The snow melts, colorful buds burst through the frost, the geese come back, and air starts to warm up again. This is one of the most (if not, the most) beautiful occurrences in nature, and we can never take that for granted. Just because something happens yearly, that doesn’t mean that it’s too ordinary to have a bit of magic in it. People too often get numb to the beauty around them be

If you know a Mormon, you probably have had one of three thoughts: “Their family is so big and they all look the same,” “Why are they so judgmental?”, or “Wow, they sure invite me to a lot of church events.” You might know about the Book of Mormon (the racist Mormon bible of the Americas that essentially erases the real history of Indigenous people, written by a white man in the 1800s). You might know what a Mormon temple looks like. You might even know that they don’t drink, but no one outside

I have been honoring Pagan holidays for years. Even in my childhood, my family indirectly celebrated them. My dad is a huge history buff, so we would make merry for the equinoxes and solstices, and he would tell us stories about days like May Day (a.k.a. Beltane). My mom would make us seasonal treats, we were all often barefoot, and my parents taught us that the mountains and the forest can be our “church.” They were the ones who taught me about the spiritual value of the Earth, and we were alwa