In Zeeland, the southern, sea-kissed part of the Netherlands, a severe storm in January 1647 exposed a sanctuary to the Goddess Nehalennia. The altars and images found a new home in Domburg ’s church, until that burned down in a fire in 1848. Water, wind, fire, weren’t kind to the Goddess! Years went by, until a fisherman hauled up stone fragments from the depths in 1970 near Colijnsplaat.
This lead to a large research project by the University of Leiden in collaboration with The Museum of Antiquities (Rijksmuseum van Oudheden, or RMO) that since recovered around 300 objects including altars, sculptures and roof tiles. Based on this, they were able to reconstruct a full Nehalennia temple at Colijnsplaat in 2005. 1)
Read on about my journey of meeting her, some of her background, and how she set me on my path of goddess archetypes…
In the first post in this series, I paid homage to Carol Christ’s 1978 clarion call “Why Women Need the Goddess,” which explains how the Goddess helps women overcome the profound wounds of patriarchy. And I began laying out my view of the five ways Goddessness can help ALL of us—not only women—to navigate the death-throes of patriarchy we are currently enduring.
My thoughts in these posts are based in Five Directions, a Goddess-centered approach to living that has been refined through my lifetime of writing and research, healing work, teaching, and witchy ritual practice. Whether used in ceremony or as a template for thought, the GoddessCircle starts in the South, direction of the Will, and turns counterclockwise (widdershins), in the feminine direction. Like Sacred Circles in traditional cultures worldwide, the GoddessCircle involves correspondences with many aspects of the world— including the potent ceremonial tool of poetic meters. The GoddessCircle’s Five Directions (South, East, North, West, and Center) and Five Elements (Fire, Air, Earth, Water, and Matrix) hold space for Will, Mind, Body, Heart, and Spirit—honoring all these parts of us equally and guiding us to cultivate the parts we have overlooked or forgotten.
The Five Directions. Art by Ailee Turcotte. Copyright Annie Finch
What twenty years of pilgrimage taught me about ritual, place and the slow cultivation of perception…
Ever since my first shamanic training in the UK and in Sweden in 2005, I felt called to seek out prehistoric ritual landscapes. Over the past two decades I slept in Neolithic burial chambers, welcomed the dawn from Bronze Age stone circles, wandered among standing stones on remote islands, and returned to certain places often enough that they became companions on my journey.
In this post I share some images and insights from my latest overnight solo adventure at the sacred site of Machrie Moors, on the Isle of Arran, Scotland, and how my practice of spontaneous immersion grew into a deep way of listening.
Going to Machrie Moor
Unlike the better-known circles of Avebury or Callanish, Machrie rarely appears in guidebooks outside Scotland, and perhaps because of that, it retains a remarkable intimacy. Sheep wander freely between the stones, the wind rolls in over the hills, and the landscape seems content in itself.
Set between sea and the dramatic outline of Goat Fell (which in the morning light appeared like a reclining goddess, see image below), the Machrie Moor complex consists of six stone circles in open moorland. There are also several other smaller menhirs that seem strategically placed like signposts leading into the site, which you can’t see from very far because it’s in a valley.
“Spiritual activism is spirituality for social change, spirituality that posits a relational worldview and uses this holistic worldview to transform one’s self and one’s worlds.” – AnaLouise Keating
Spiritual activism offers vital pathways for community care, resistance, and personal transformation and can take many forms. The same is true of witchcraft practices, which can follow a specific lineage, synthesize traditions, be practiced solo, be co-created in a coven of witches, and more. In this article, we’re reflecting on witchcraft as a form of spiritual activism, and approaching both in the most general terms as a starting point. We hold the works of Gloria Anzaldúa, Rachel Ricketts, Starhawk, and many others, including our fellow witches, as influential and present in our thinking. Furthermore, we view witchcraft as an act of cultural, spiritual, and feminist reclamation, enabling us to carry our ancestors into the future.
Amie’s ocean ritual for the people of Palestine.
We arrive to the conversation as scholar practitioners, feminists, and co-facilitators of Witch Workshops. Amie is a European-descendant woman of Irish and Scottish ancestry whose work lives at the intersections of decolonizing human-water relationships, spiritual ecology, and healing-centered education. Freia is a European-descendant woman of Norwegian, Irish, and Sámi ancestry whose work seeks to heal colonial ruptures around Indigenous and matrilineal ways of knowing and being through ritual, art, and storytelling. We share these personal details as a way of sharing the standpoints that inform our views, which will of course be different from others. Hopefully our small offering can spark a conversation and ignite more witches into considering themselves spiritual activists, or vice versa.
Author’s Note: This blog first published on May 14, 2023. Čarodějnice will take place this year on Thursday, April 30, 2026.
This post is a follow-up, in a way, to the post I published here on September 11, 2016, entitled “Continuing Pre-Christian Traditions in the Czech Republic,” and will be a combination photo essay* and elaboration on one of the rituals mentioned in that first post. On April 30th, I was in the small village where my partner’s family has their summer house. Yes, that same village that has inspired posts like this. There, we celebrated Čarodějnice, or Witches. This holiday seems to be related to what is called May Day or Beltane in other countries. What is unique about this tradition isn’t necessarily the májka (May Pole) although it is different than other places May Pole, but the burning of the witch.
Throughout the day, everything is gendered. The women and girls have certain tasks; the men and boys have too. The women and girls create and decorate. First, they create a witch to be burned on a large bonfire; the construction and shape of both can vary. After creating the witch, the women and girls (although it should be virgins – but no one really follows that tradition) decorate the top of a cut-down, very tall pine tree with strips of brightly colored fabric and crepe paper, tying them on to create what will become vertical streamers blowing in the wind, thus creating what is called a májka.
Moderator’s Note: This beautiful invocation appeared on the Lilith Institute’s website on February Feb 19, 2024. If you would like to learn more or see this invocation on their website, click here.
*
She of all knowing, dark wisdom … She of the deep abyss, snake’s descent, owl’s knowing … woman of the dark, the light.
We praise You, we stand in awe, marveling at the myriad surprises you hold in store for us always respectful of your power, your M/mystery.
Shekhinah-Lilith-Ishtar, we worship you, in all your aspects; we sing your name.
Walk with us as we yearn to see you, to feel you, to exchange the divine sparks we both need to live … Never let us forget your P/presence in, around and through us, as we seek to proclaim and praise you in every corner of the world, in your many guises, by every name.
Walk with us as we love you, when we are angered by you, when we fail to comprehend you and when we renew our resolve to serve …
Be patient with us as we must be with ourselves, and each other, holding your Presence even when we are in doubt or despair.
This blogpost is included as part of FAR’s co-operation with other organizations to highlight and amplify each other’s voices. Paul Robear is President and Executive Director of The Cuyamungue Institute (CUYA). CUYA is the international home of Ritual Postures and a global leader in transformative experiences rooted in ancient traditions — offering workshops, research, and online learning that open pathways to expanded states of consciousness. CUYA, The Felicitas D. Goodman Institute is an independent, 501c3 not-for-profit educational organization committed to the study of “ASC” Altered States of Consciousness as a natural extension of the human experience.
Finding Coherence in Shared Presence
Why have human beings always gathered in circles?
I have often wondered why I am instinctively drawn to them; my body seems to recognize a quiet stability before my mind can explain it.
The circle itself generates a kind of collective coherence.
Long before there were formal doctrines or institutions, there were fires, drums, breath, and bodies moving together in a circle. Across cultures and continents, people entered rhythm — through chant, movement, and synchronized breath. While these practices were often interpreted through religious frameworks, something more fundamental was occurring beneath the symbolism.
In a circle, every face can be seen, every movement sensed. Nothing approaches from behind. The body registers this orientation as safety.
Ritual, then, may be one of humanity’s oldest technologies for collective coherence.
It is February, the belly of winter. We stand in the doorway between worlds, a thin, pale light ahead of us, just beginning to gather itself at the horizon. While life may feel still and inspiration frozen, something in us is listening for the first faint whispers of spring. In earth-centered, neopagan spiritual traditions drawing inspiration from old Celtic holidays, the holiday of Imbolc is on February 1-2. Imbolc is based on an old Irish word that means “in the belly.” One of my favorite reminders to myself at any time of year, not just February, is to cradle myself in the belly of the moment.* To be in the belly reminds us that we need not be focused on arriving or figuring it all out, instead we incubate, we gestate, we draw nourishment from deep within. We do not have to be ready. We are becoming. We are in the belly of winter, and the work of the belly is to hold, to warm, to nourish what is not yet visible.
In the middle of winter as well as in the middle of national crises, international conflict, and climate disaster, the world can feel grim and gray, and like hope and optimism are misplaced or even extinguished. We may feel burned out, used up, or simply too tired to offer anything of value.
A few years ago, I took a pilgrimage to Crete with the hope of meeting the Great Goddess. I was yearning from something undeniable, proof that would allow me to be a card-carrying believer. Although our group was led to powerful ancient sites where we enacted sincere rituals and dances, each time I failed to feel greeted by Her universal power.
Except once. And I almost missed it.
The great cavern, Skotino (Photo by Helen Marie Traglia)
One day, a small but determined group of women took it upon us to co-lead a ritual at Skotino cave, an ancient site used for sacred purposes from the Bronze Age through the Roman era. The collaborative approach to facilitating a ritual was new to us, so we all felt especially ignited and giddy. Before we descended into the depths of the cave, I sang, (something I NEVER do). I had been provided lyrics, but I made up my own melody, which my fellow initiates sang back to me, as a call and response.
Springtime in Paris brings the magnificence of cherry blossoms, the scent of sweet crêpes, and an influx of tourists eager to capture their own moment of passion on the cobblestone streets of the world’s most romantic city. I may be biased because Paris is my home, but there’s no denying its magic. With its art, history, cuisine, fashion, and architecture, the city offers extraordinary experiences. It’s no wonder so many couples choose to marry in the City of Light.
Years ago, when I entered the wedding industry, I did so reluctantly, only after leaving the one profession I had ever known – ministry. What I didn’t expect was that I would become a bridge for couples navigating the ever-widening gap between love and institutional religion. The so-called “rules” of tradition are often mislabeled as matters of faith but are more accurately named as remnants of the heteropatriarchy. They place enormous pressure on engaged couples. It’s no surprise that many of the eloping couples I meet in Paris have chosen their path simply because it is less stressful than trying to appease tradition, religion, family, or friends (or all of the above).
