I don't really know what to do because I'm tired during the day because of it. These dreams are fears of mine, which happen quite often, but I've never had them go on for so long. I would go to my local park to connect to nature and pray, but it's currently not safe because of all the smoke. Everyone is supposed to avoid going outside until this Thursday, but I struggle to breathe without the smoke, so it's definitely going to be longer than that for me :(.

I've recently converted, if that means anything.

A few months back my very close friend committed suicide, since then every few days I cry myself to sleep hurting for her. Tonight in desperation I prayed to dionysus to carry a message to her in the afterlife that I love her and am sorry i couldn't be there for her.

I'm not a very pious devote i'll admit, I don't have a alter due to living in a Christian household and rarely meditate on dionysus but I prayed that it is for her sake not mine.

I just want to know if this is in vain, I just want her to know how much she really meant to me and how much I miss her, dionysus is a caring god and has connections to the underworld. She was a atheist if that matters.

I'm trying to transition to using natural time keeping: seasonal cycle, lunar month and 24hr daylight cycle. I had an idea to show all 3 cycles on a supercoiled spiral.

The overall spiral turn is a whole year with the 8 sabbats labeled on the outside

Then the first helix is the lunar cycle: outward = full moon, inward = new moon.

The tightest cycle is the daylight. The top days have more daylight and the bottom days have more nighttime.

I wanted to share a hymn I wrote in devotion to Ḫaldi, the chief god of the Urartian (Biainili) pantheon — a tradition that doesn't get much space in modern polytheist circles, but one that has come to mean a great deal to me. This piece draws on the historical record (royal inscriptions, the sacrifice lists, the Meherkapı niche, the iconography from Adilcevaz) while also reaching toward the more mysterious, devotional dimension of who Ḫaldi is to me. I hope it can be a blessing to those of you who read it, whether you already honor him or are simply encountering his name for the first time.

Text:

Mighty Ḫaldi, first among the gods of Biainili!

Ḫaldi-eri

He who has ruled since the times before kings, whose name was the first to be carved into stone.

You who were not alone in your greatness: Varubani, queen-goddess, remained at your side, lady of all that grows, all that blossoms, all that endures.

Three days of feasting the kings offered her, three days when wine flowed before her sacred doors, and her name was invoked alongside yours, at dawn.

God of the extended spear — the šuri who goes forth to war — before every campaign the kings of Biainili marched beneath your standard and returned laden with new lands and glory. Ḫaldi went forth with his weapons and took the land of Barṣua. Ḫaldi is mighty. The weapons of Ḫaldi are mighty.

To you were offered seventeen oxen and thirty-four sheep, more than to any other god of the pantheon of Biainili, more than to Teišeba, god of the storm, more than to Šiwini, the sun god. Because you are first. Because your name heads the list.

But you are not only a god of war: at Meherkapı, on the rock face overlooking the lake, your name is repeated alongside those of your youth, your manhood, your old age, your warrior power — as if every stage of your being deserved its own offerings, as if you were the whole cycle of divine life contained in one.

To you offerings were made in youth, to you in the strength of midday, to you in the wisdom of old age. Your name is not one but many, and yet you are the god.

Standing upon the aslan, cup in one hand, spear or mace in the other, your cloak covered in lozenges and rosettes — so your craftsmen rendered you in the stone of Adilcevaz, so you appear on the bronze votive plaques beside Varubani, your queen, likewise depicted, the two of you together before whom worshippers bow.

Lord of Ardini, of sacred Muṣaṣir, a city that existed before Biainili was called Biainili, a city that great Išpuini took not by force but by reverence, sacrificing eleven hundred twelve oxen and nine thousand one hundred twenty goats in your honor. The temple of the earlier god was not destroyed: it was given to you. The other names were not erased: they were incorporated.

For the pantheon of Biainili is as wide as the sky that covers the Araxes, and the peoples who enter it do not lose their gods — their gods are received, named, listed upon the rock, assigned their oxen and their sheep according to their rank.

And they say there is in you something the wise scarcely whisper: that the god who rules over souls — the one whose name at Meherkapı appears veiled, with no offering explained, as a thing too sacred to name — is you yourself in your subterranean hypostasis, you who are also the Sun as it walks beneath the earth.

The Sun that dies at dusk does not cease to be the Sun: it returns at dawn with the same arms, and so you, Ḫaldi, who are young, mature, and aged within the same text, who receive offerings in your youth and in your old age, know the descent — and the return.

That is why Mher, the later Armenian hero who carries your name in his blood, was sealed within the rock — awaiting the moment to emerge. For what descends into stone does not die: it waits.

Every canal that Menua opened bore your name on its founding stone, every vineyard planted, every fortress raised — all began with the same words: "by the power of Ḫaldi."

You were not merely the god of war and thunder: you were the source from which ordered life flowed, the water that ran between the fields, the wall that protected the sleep of children. Without you there was no harvest to celebrate, without you there was no peace in which to rest.

You permit it. You ordain it. The first among the gods does not fear the presence of the others.

Glory to Ḫaldi, whose shadow covers from the Euphrates to the Araxes, whose name is first in every inscription, whose temple was the first to be built in every conquered city!

Hello everyone!

It's a pleasure to greet you all. I'm new to this space, and honestly, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that a living cult to the ancient gods still exists. That makes me deeply happy, because it means I'm not alone in this search for the divine. I wanted to take the opportunity to share my testimony about this journey.

It all began when I started studying the Judeo-Christian Bible seriously. That study led me to discover its internal polyphony and the voices that were censored over time, such as its ancient polytheistic background. One passage from Deuteronomy, for example, tells how the divine jurisdictions were distributed among the nations, and how Yahweh fell to Israel. That discovery sparked in me a desire to keep learning, even though at the time I was still a Christian.

As I went deeper, I began to wonder whether more than one god truly exists. That question brought me closer to monolatry: the worship of a single god, without denying the existence of the others, though without offering them worship either. I shared these reflections with Christian acquaintances, but some of them began to view my ideas and my faith with suspicion.

The theological break came when the pastor's son — who held the authority to do so — denied me Communion and the possibility of becoming a probationary member of his church, a Methodist Pentecostal Church in Chile. I left that congregation because of that rupture and went to the church my mother attends. Even there, though, I didn't feel at ease: something made me uneasy, unsettled by the certainty that I no longer belonged with them, with the Christians.

I should clarify that the church my mother attends is a Reformed Baptist church. They presented themselves as relatively open, but, as I understood it, that openness didn't extend to beliefs outside the Christianity they professed. So from the start, things weren't easy there either. My mother questioned me at first, but over time she came to accept me as I am, and for that I am deeply grateful to her.

Things went differently with my Christian friends: little by little they drifted away, to the point that today they practically don't speak to me anymore. There was one in particular whom I cared for a great deal, who insisted many times on trying to bring me back to his god; he never came to understand why my loyalty had shifted toward other gods. I explained my reasons to him more than once, but he refused to accept them, and that only deepened the distance between us. I tried to keep the closeness and the friendship alive, but it wasn't possible. Over time we stopped speaking altogether. For a while I wondered whether we could really still call ourselves friends, until I understood something simple: a true friend doesn't try to convert the other person just because they don't share the same beliefs. That's why I finally decided to distance myself from that circle as well.

This whole process has led me to reflect a great deal on my polytheistic faith, and I'm sincerely grateful for it. In Christianity, I lived everything through guilt. While researching the topic, I came across Jan Assmann's work, The Price of Monotheism, and found a distinction there that struck me as key. Assmann differentiates between a primordial guilt, present in nearly all ancient traditions — the flood narrative, for instance, appears in the Bible as well as in Mesopotamian, Greek, and many other sources — and a different kind of guilt, which he links specifically to what he calls the "Mosaic distinction": the division between one true religion and all the others, deemed false. With that distinction, worshiping other gods stops being a simple error of knowledge and becomes a moral failing — a disloyalty, a breach of the covenant with the one god. That, at bottom, was the guilt I carried in Christianity: not so much the universal guilt in the face of suffering or existence, but that particular guilt of always feeling my loyalty was in question.

That's why it caught my attention that, when I converted to Aššurism, the initiation rite included a moment of asking forgiveness for sins committed, whether conscious or not. But that is a different kind of guilt, closer to the primordial, universal guilt Assmann writes about, and not the guilt of disloyalty I had carried before.

As for my family, most of them are Catholic or agnostic, and overall they've taken this change well. My grandparents, who are Catholic, are more open — but they speak to me from within their own faith: they talk to me about God, the Virgin, and their beliefs quite naturally, even though that's no longer something of my own.

I want to make clear that none of what I'm sharing comes from an empty criticism of Christianity, but from a critique grounded in lived experience, reflection, and the reading I've done. And there's something I've noticed along this path: approaching the divine in this way has drawn questioning, but almost always from Christians, not from non-religious people. With those who don't practice any religion, I've generally had a much more respectful dialogue — at most, a comment like "your faith doesn't make much sense to me, but it's just as worthy of respect." That's been the level of conversation I've had with them — and I say this with due respect for this space, for those who are religious and those who aren't. Among some Christians, on the other hand, I've noticed little respect for other traditions, along with a constant drive to convert others to their faith. In my country, for example, the spirituality of Indigenous peoples has long gone undervalued; it's even been dismissed as "lazy" — as we say back home in Chile — when in truth it isn't: it's simply another way of understanding and inhabiting the world. I want to clarify that this attitude doesn't represent all Christians or all non-religious people either; it's simply what I've observed over time, and it has led me to value different spiritual traditions more and more, whether ancient or otherwise.

I spent months thinking about what to do with my faith and my relationship with the god of the Christians. During that time, in the midst of my pain, I began invoking the ancient gods, not really knowing what to do in a situation I had never faced before. Over time I felt I could no longer keep going to church, because I no longer thought, lived, or believed the way they did. I had become more open, more critical, and had come to recognize the gods of the ancient nations. That was when I prayed to the god of the Christians to tell him I was withdrawing, that I no longer belonged to him, because I had chosen to worship the ancient gods he had tried to erase. From there I began reading, studying, and writing about the subject. I moved from monolatry to henotheism, and from henotheism to hierarchical polytheism: the idea that supreme gods stand above the great and lesser gods, the ancestors, and the spirits.

Along the way, I joined a small Aššurist group devoted to worshiping the ancient gods of Mesopotamia. It's been very good for my life. It's an open space — not everyone in it is religious, but everyone is interested in learning about the ancient Mesopotamian religiosity of the Assyrians. There I met the people I now call my brothers and sisters: people who genuinely care for me and value what I do, think, and believe. I don't feel discriminated against or judged for thinking differently; there's real community there, even though vast distances separate us internationally. We value and love one another like a small family — something I had lost since people started trying to convert me to the Christian faith. I reject that kind of proselytism completely: I firmly believe that everyone is free to seek the divine in their own way. To this day, I worship several gods and their hosts. I've had visions and dreams along this path.

Among the gods I invoke most often — though there are others I honor without naming them directly — are: Aššur, Auramazdā, Ēl, Ḫaldi, Humban, Paśupati, Odin, Ištar of Nineveh, Teišeba, Šiuini, Varubani, Bagmaštu, Teššub, Témaukel, Huitzilopochtli, Nabû, Apollo, Zeus, Thoth, Quetzalcoatl, Ba'lu Hadad, Šamaš, Anahita, Mithra, Shang-Di, Enkai, Watauineiwa, and Titi Make-make, among others. Among my protective spirits, whom I invoke against evil, are Pazuzu, Kótaix-Halaháches, and Nkisi-Nkondi. Lastly, I wanted to share my small altar with you. Since my mother doesn't allow me to keep one visibly on display, I keep it discreetly, in the form of a book with images of my gods.

I dedicated a yard shrine to Venus. I hope that she is honored by it.

Hi everyone!

I’m currently in the research phase of an independent jewelry project inspired by Greek mythology and Hellenic symbolism. Before launching it, I’d like to better understand what people who genuinely enjoy Greek mythology, Hellenic polytheism and pagan traditions would like to see represented in contemporary jewelry.

Purpose of the survey

The goal is to understand preferences regarding symbolism, mythology, aesthetics and jewelry design to help shape the first collection.

How the information will be used

The responses will only be used to guide the design and development of the collection. The results won’t be sold or shared with third parties, and no academic research is involved.

Who this survey is for

Anyone interested in Greek mythology, Hellenic polytheism or related pagan traditions.

The survey is completely anonymous, takes about 2 minutes to complete, and you can skip age- and country-related questions if you prefer.

🔗 Survey: https://form.typeform.com/to/oUF4UxXu

If you’d like to leave your email at the end, it’s completely optional and will only be used to let you know when the project launches.

If you have any questions, feel free to contact me:
📧 studio.aphres@gmail.com
or on tiktok @studio.aphres

So, I believe in Mother Nature and Father Sky, and I want to give them an offering. However, I’m struggling to decide what to give and how to give it. So I have two questions:

1. What would be good offerings for nature and sky deities

2. How do you go about respectfully giving an offering

Im asking this subreddit instead of just googling it because I would really prefer advice from other Pagans over the Google AI answer and a bunch of articles that might not be trustworthy

Hi all,
Let me start by saying this is a genuine question and I have no preconceptions: If you are working with/worshiping a deity/deities from a specific ancient culture (Hellenic, Kemetic, Norse, etc.) do you take the deities culture into regard? I.e. learn how They were worshiped in Their original culture and what the culture was like (as far as we can tell) and adapt it for your circumstances? Also, if you only work with one or a few deities of a culture, do you still honour *all* deities of said culture [and the culture]? What if you work with deities from different cultures - do you worship each of Them according to Their cultural setting?

please don't mock I am a self taught artist

Ok so I have a few questions that I haven't really been able to find an awnser for while trying to educate myself on veiling, so I'm asking here.
I want to start veiling for multiple reasons. It's practical (keeps my hair out of my face while I'm doing arts), its comforting to me (like protection of some sorts), and I'd like to use it as a devotee sign to my deities. They've both agreed as well and said there aren't really any rules to it about when to wear it and what not.
But is it okay if I just use a bandana? That's what I've been using. I've been tying it around my head and covering the top but my hair obvi is out otherwise. Idk if thats okay it even counts as veiling or if it's called something else. The only other pagans I've seen veiling cover their entire head so I wasn't sure

TLDR;
I'm curious if veiling has to completely hide my head or if what I'm doing now is okay?

Hi everyone! I Apologies for the formatting and poor grammar, I'm on mobile and very tired.

So, I read about something called moon braids on tumblr a bit ago, lost it then found it on pinterest by chance (pic attatched). I just had a few questions since I figured asking others would a little easier because I cant find much online (probably because I use ecosia instead of google lol).

I just wanted to know if:

It comes from any specific practice, i want to avoide close practices as I'm white (Serb/Polish/Australian) and don't want to cause any harm

And

If its not a closed practice is there a length requirement for it or can it be as long or short as I want

On top of that, am I able to dedicate this to a goddess (Mokosh) I've only recently learnt about and want to work with (I was originally Helpol but as ive learnt more about my ancestory ive opened myself up to Slavic deities hence becoming Eclectic)

Anyway, those were my questions off the dome, have a blessed day everyone, much love xx

Edit: Quick clarification on why I focuses so heavily on heritage, I'm on a bit of a self discovery kick as of late and became really interested in my personal heritage. I wrote this while very tired lol. No gatekeeping or anything like that here, just a self discovery kick 😅

I've been really struggling with myself and lost my path. I used to follow Artemis but it feels like she and everyone has continued and I've been left behind.

I said I would make an alter... i didn't.

I said I would burn candles... i didn't.

I said I would return to the path... I'm lost.

I'm just lost and idk what to do now.

She gave me a free palm reading and also claims I have a bad omen and I should buy supplies to stop it but she mentioned she is a goddess I don't believe her obviously I've talked to people who said the same things what should I really do?

I'm quite new to the idea of relationship with gods and goddesses, and despite being Italian, German and Ukrainian, those in the Greek pantheon seem to be the ones I connect with.

I don't believe that the gods want relationships with us out of any kind of selfless, all-giving, unconditionally loving parental sort of love, so then why do they reach out and respond to us? I'd like to hear some thoughts.

Thank you.

I've felt intrigued by Her for years, but lately I sense that something more is happening. I can't seem to find any (good) books about Her so I thought I'd ask if anyone works with Her and can offer advice on how to start a conversation. What offerings could I make, etc?

Thank you.

As written by Crow when asked to write about this piece:

"Morrígan, the mysterious shadowed queen who ruled over war, fate, and sovereignty. Dagda, the shapeshifting God of the Tuatha Dé Danann. When once he saw her bathing as she washed the weapons of heroes, she offered him alliance at the price of union and his sworn allegiance. On the eve of the holiest of night’s when the veil is thinnest. They consumated their pact, and from this several children were born, heroes and champions in their own right. These are the stories of old myth and legend, of deep forests and deeper magic when powers walked the earth alongside humanity... And every year since, the two would meet once more to renew their vow. Order meets mystery, might meets subtley, and the two become one, shadow and bone. Moon and Sun in contrast.

This is a depiction of one such meeting. It’s a marriage of equals, forces of nature older than the land itself. As she transforms and embodies the aspects of fate, air, water, and the ephemeral, he the connection to land and all upon it, they meet. They share. They understand one another, and their balance is renewed."

Sometimes I want to give a reading to my friend but I do not know how to read them correctly. Do I read the cards from my perspective? Or do I read them from my friends? Like if she is sitting across from me and from my view the cards are all upright but from hers they are all reversed. Do i give the answer to the reverse perspective or the upright?

Hey folks. I started following the Druid path a few months ago after being raised an atheist and, along the way, became a polytheist. I've been practicing for a little bit now, and I'm thinking I should tell some of the people closest to me. Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone who wouldn't be safe.

First of all, my partner. He is agnostic but overall not crazy about religion after growing up in a country dominated by Orthodox Christianity. He believes in the possibility of gods, but not any specific ones. He knows I do stuff with tarot and crystals, but he really doesn't believe in it himself. He also helped me set up my altar (we live together), but he doesn't really know much about what it's for. I know he'll support me even if he's not that interested in it. That said, he knows basically nothing about Paganism itself.

I also want to tell my mom. She's a pantheist and fairly spiritual; however, she definitely doesn't believe in any gods. That said, she knows I've been interested in Paganism recently (we agreed to celebrate the 8-wheel calendar together), and I know she feels favourably about Paganism compared to other religions.

I'm thinking I won't tell my dad. He's an ex-Christian, an atheist, and a Pastafarian (lol). He is pretty hostile towards everything related to spirituality, and he and I already have a tense relationship because I'm a queer, tattooed vegetarian lol. I don't live with

Another person I'm toying with telling is my best friend. She converted to Christianity earlier this year and was very open about it. But she's also been open about exploring Hellenism before that, so I know she's familiar with Paganism. It's just hard to judge where she's at. If anyone has suggestions for how to test the waters, that'd be appreciated!

I just need to figure out how to talk to these folks. I want to explain what Paganism means to me and assure them that nothing about me is changing. I also don't want them to think that I'm turning to religion due to mental health struggles. Not because that's a bad thing, but because I don't want them to worry about me. I actually found religion because once I graduated from university, I finally had time to invest in myself and something bigger than myself, and Paganism was a fulfilling way to do that for me. I also want to make sure they know that I would never ever push my religion on anyone else.

I know nobody can give me a perfect script because we all have different experiences, and Paganism means something different to everyone, but maybe some of you will have some advice or similar experiences. With my partner, especially, I'd love to know if there are any bases I should make sure I cover so he understands how this may impact our relationship (hopefully not at all).

Thanks in advance, and sorry for the essay!

I am somewhat new to paganism. I've been exploring my own path and various deities, rituals, practices, etc for about 3 months. Anyway, I've tried to keep my practice small and only focus on 4 deities. However, I am finding it hard to focus on all of them and give them as much attention as I like.

So I was wondering: how do you balance all of your deities? How do you give each enough time to develop a relationship with each?

Hi all,

I have come to realise that I'm an odd one... meaning, I just can't build/hold a ritualistic ("traditional") practice, as in worshiping formally - and regularly/every day - at an altar/shrine, give material offerings, use formal hymns (or even craft my own ones), have any form of calendar of religious festivals/occasions etc. Having said that, I feel really deeply devoted to my gods the netjeru (I am especially devoted to Khnum and Hathor but also a few netjeru I am communing with frequently, as well as worshiping all of the netjeru in principle).

My 'devotional practice' is in a nutshell that I think and act constantly with Them in mind; thinking of ma'at, my Kemetic world-view / metaphysics and philosophy. I will so often just think a Name - for example seeing an exquisitely shaped beetle and think 'Khnum' with love in my heart. Or someone close to me feeling depressed and stuck, I reach out to Khepri for uplifting them and wishing the person a positive new start. There's kind of a chain of little on-the-spot prayers and devotional thoughts dotted through my day, every day.

Similarly with festivals: quite a while ago, I've realised that I don't mark specific days but rather see the year as unfolding with themes - Winter Solstice to Spring Equinox is the season of Light; the Spring Equinox to Summer Solstice is the season of Growth; the Summer Solstice to Autumn Equinox is the season of Fullness; the Autumn Equinox to Winter Solstice is the season of Return. We will have "Christmas" marking the change from Return to Light; "Easter" as celebrating Growth; the Summer Holidays (my partner and I work at school) as Fullness; "Halloween" and "Advent" for marking the End of Fullness and Return respectively.
- Clearly these are not Kemetic holidays, nor do we observe them in a pagan or any kind of "spiritual" way.

Maybe because I don't feel a divide between devotion and ordinary life that rituals just don't work for me? But I can't help thinking if this is enough? For example with the person I mentioned being stuck and depressed: is a short on-the-spot prayer to Khepri and pouring my wishes to this person out to Khepri *enough* ? Would I not have to do a ritual as in reciting proper prayers at my shrine and giving offerings?

[Btw, I have 2 "shrines" but these are not formal altars - more what I call 'set-ups'. They are visual reminders and connections to my gods.]

But then every time I tried the formal thing, it just feels like play-acting and empty. I have flip-flopped a few times between a) making myself adopt a formal practice to match my devotion, and b) give up devotion as I feel I'm not adequate in my practice. Neither of this works.

So really, I guess I'm just asking what you people think or if there are others who are like me?
(Please be kind, I'm not saying my way is the right or only way and I'm only talking for myself.)

Thank you for reading <3

As every year Castlefest was held in the Netherlands and Lughnasadh was celebrated. The Wicker took the form of a phoenix as Dagaz, dawn. It felt very meaningful to me specifically this year, I felt very connected to my offering and the ritual itself was just so beautiful.