How to create a secular spiritual practice
Happy Sunday, Soothers. In last week’s essay on prepperism as community care, and what I’m thinking of as “emotional” prepperism, I talked about the importance of building a spiritual practice as one of our bulwarks and lights to hold and nurture during the coming years.
Good idea in theory, in practice, there’s only one problem:
Most of the people who could really benefit from something like that absolutely balk at the word “spiritual.”
In fact, don’t consider themselves remotely spiritual at all.
Are proudly atheist.
Recoil at new age practices.
If they ever want to a church in their youth, they’ve long abandoned it (and usually for very good reasons!).
The word and concept of spirituality usually has them picking up and absolutely sprinting around the corner, as if somebody is straight on chasing them down with a flaming sage bundle, concerned they’re going to get incense smoke lingering on their clothes or that somebody will shove dozens of unwanted crystals in their pockets.
And I get it. Trust me. I wasn’t always a Tarot-reading, sign-believing, universe-trusting, Feng Shui-practicing animistic lady crone of the woods, believe it or not.
From adolescence on to my late 30s, I never believed in magic (I for sure did when I was a kiddo, though, but that dissipated, as it sadly does for most of us) or even thought about anything resembling spiritual or religious contemplation. The closest I got was reading my horoscope in the back of the newspaper for fun and maybe going to an Easter church service once in a while.
I’ve always been a very practical person, raised in a non-religious family, where the only altar we worshiped at was the one where we got straight As and prestigious, financially-secure jobs. In short, “You’re born, you work, you make money, you die (though, definitely DON’T talk about the dying part!)” was our sort of spirituality.
But that all changed in my late 30s. (I’m about to turn 45 in January.) The story of how I went from an atheist corporate executive, dating in DC and living in a Pinterest-worthy condo to somebody who microdoses plants, thinks herbs have consciousness and consults Tarot for big life decisions is one too long for this lil newsletter here today. It could fill a book (and hopefully, one day will!).
Anyways, I write that all to say that I understand and have been on both sides of the coin: those who firmly believe our existence is a random biological aberration, there’s nothing bigger than us out there, and zilch happens to us after death; and those of us who trust there’s magic in the trees, the universe is sending us signs and support, our ancestors are alive and well on another plane and conspiring to help us and one day we will join them in those efforts.
I respect both sides — not to mention, everything in between. I think the most important thing anybody can do for themselves is examine their lived experience, think critically about their beliefs (as long as you also question them once in a while), then honor them, trust them, and live them out.
At the same time, I know this for sure:
Many of the secular, atheist folks out there, DO want something more spiritual in their lives — something that imbues their days with sacredness, ritual, meaning, purpose.
But they often find it difficult to locate in a container that works for them, doesn’t make them cringe, that respects where their hearts and minds are on the topic.
A secular spirituality, if you will.
I think creating a secular spiritual practice is something that is a really good idea to invest in, if you’re atheist/secular — or even just a bit spiritually curious, but still more comfortable with earthly, grounded, practical ideas.
As we face rising authoritarianism around the world, thinkers and writers who have been here before have all discussed the need for an inner practice that creates meaning, sacredness, calm, peace, fortitude.
Monk Thomas Merton wrote: “The only way to deal with this life meaningfully is to find one's passion, and to connect with one's deepest source of inner life. And in a time of political and social chaos, it is precisely this inner life that can be a source of spiritual resistance to the prevailing powers of the world.”
Me, personally? I find that in lots of my magical and spiritual practices — Tarot, ancestor work, nature divination, energy clearing, speaking with my higher self and inner child.
But YOU don’t have to.
You can have your own secular and grounded practices that will give you the essences of what something like my spiritual practice gives me, and what other more traditionally religious people I imagine receive from their faith, too: Peace, connection, trust, faith, meaning, purpose, ritual.
And I absolutely think it can be done.
Below are my (non-exhaustive) ideas on where you can start for creating a secular spiritual practice, paired with a journal prompt/question for you to reflect on, or a resource I think might be of aid.
(Pssst: make sure you scroll down all the way to the bottom for a brand-new, in-person!!!, women’s circle and teaching offering for the spiritually curious who want to make connections, nourish their soul, and have conversations about the depths of life.)
1. Turn the mundane into the sacred. To me, this is probably the most core aspect of my own spirituality, but it’s not owned by us religious or spiritual folks. Secular folks, you too! can make boring shit like sweeping your kitchen or even turning on your laptop into a practice of sacredness. To me, there are several elements of doing this:
Slowing down (physically, mentally)
Being in presence (take a few deep breaths)
Gratitude
A mindset shift of “have to,” to “get to” - one of devotion and care
Using your five senses
Bringing in something that makes the practice sparkle a little bit
For example, let’s take the example of sweeping my kitchen. Annoying, mundane, but unless I want to live in ever-increasing piles of discarded gluten-free muffin crumbs that mound about my kitchen like snowdrifts, it’s gotta be done.
So I choose to make it a little more sacred.
For me, I know that sweeping is a powerful tool in the practice of Feng Shui. The idea is that when you sweep, you’re clearing away old energy and stagnant chi to make room for the new. Oftentimes I’ll also bring herbs into the practice — using a basil wash for abundance to wipe down surfaces, or sweeping with rosemary to call in protection. The attitude transforms the practice from resentful, “Why isn’t my husband the one sweeping, HUH?” to more like a fairy dancing around the kitchen knowing I’m supporting the household.
But you don’t have to use Feng Shui tenets, or herbs. You can play some music while you sweep. Open a window. You can imagine new winds of change coming in as you sweep or vacuum, in an intentional way, unrelated to anything to do with whatever the hell chi might be.
You can clear off your desk once a week, light a candle, play some music as you wind down your work.
You can refill your yard’s birdfeeders, knowing you are creating abundance for the wildlife around you.
You can make your favorite tea, put on some tunes, and sit down to pay the bills, grateful for what resources you do have.
Your exercise/journal prompt: What is one task or chore that you currently dread or that bores you to tears? What are 3-5 ideas, using the above as inspiration, could you do to help transform it into a sacred act?
Resource to check out: The book, The Power of Ritual: Turning Everyday Activities into Soulful Practices by Casper ter Kuile
2. Connect to something larger than you. To me, connecting to something larger is creating a relationship with universal intelligence; some will call it God. For a secular person, though, you can connect to plenty that’s bigger than you right here in your daily life. Look for moments of awe in your life. The cosmos; your love for your child or pet. Being at a concert with hundreds or thousands of others of people; protesting; being part of an activist movement; reading poetry or volunteering.
Even as a spiritual person, most of my connection to something larger than me happens in a secular way, and involve either nature, art, or other humans. That’s available to all of us.
But a lot of modern life has squished out these moments of connection to something larger, particularly after COVID; our worlds maybe got a lot smaller, with a lot fewer people and fewer chances to feel part of something grander.
Take this moment as an opportunity to evaluate where you connect to something bigger in your life. If there’s nothing, where did you USED to connect to something bigger, even amongst what limits of your circumstances may be present?
I remember, well before the internet was even really a thing and I was but a wee 15-year-old emo, tenderhearted teen, I’d put on my headphones, connect to my walkman and fall asleep listening to a Radiohead album. I could feel in the sweep of the music, the connection to things I didn’t yet know how to articulate even to myself. There was a world of expression and art and sound well beyond the borders of my boring-to-me suburban town.
Most recently, I felt most connected to something bigger than me when I attended a fundraiser for artists affected by Hurricane Helene; that was the group element. But then I also felt it when I was sitting in my backyard, watching some of the sweet chickadees who are still hanging around bop about the grass and the slate patio. Here too, are friends.
Your exercise/journal prompt: When was the last time you felt connected to something larger than you? Why did it make you feel that way — see if you can name three qualities. Where can you do your best to find something like that again?
3. Consider your relationship to self. Do you HAVE one? What is its quality, its essence? I think most secular people might think this is where the navel-gazing of spiritual folks could annoyingly come in; god, just WHY do they have to journal so much — what could you possibly have to say for that many pages?! Can you STOP with the self-discovery?
But to me, building a loving relationship with yourself is a deep part of a spiritual practice, and also just a human one. Whether or not you identify with a formal religious or spiritual framework, nurturing a relationship with yourself helps create a space where you can deeply listen to your needs, honor boundaries, cultivate a sense of trust and compassion, and maybe discover, somewhere deep down, that you, too — yes, you — are not just a member of the regular human jagoff parade (none of us are, btw,) — you too, are part of the divine.
And if not a part of the divine? Just work on liking and knowing yourself. It’s worth doing, and learning to do well, as it’s not something most of us are taught how.
Your exercise/journal prompt: If you were to describe your relationship with yourself, what would be 5 words you would use to describe it? What moments in the week or day do you have set aside to connect with just you? If there are none right now, what is an idea for one?
Resource to check out: Morning Pages, the style of journaling created by Julia Cameron in the Artist’s Way. (In fact, the whole book of the Artist’s Way is a really good place for a secular person to start if they want a week-by-week practice of the kind of grounded contemplation we’re discussing here.) I started doing these back when I was an atheist and they cracked my soul open to a much deeper knowing of self — and they are still a regular practice for me. Want a bit more info? Nora McInerny wrote this recent post: WTF Are Morning Pages?
4. Be in nature regularly. That’s it, that’s the whole tip. The core of any spiritual practice, whether it’s secular or no, has got to be, I think, about nature. Nature is literally who created us. Forging a connection to her must be at the center of any sort of reclamation of ourselves and our inner fortitude. Separation from nature and the land is also one of the first and most powerful tools of authoritarianism, so to actively reclaim it is a centering, holy process.
You don’t have to make this complicated. Visit whatever version of nature you can with regularity and reverence. Mark the solstices and the equinoxes. Go look at the moon once in a while, see sunrise when you can. Pick a favorite tree and visit her throughout the seasons. Say good morning to the birds and goodnight to the stars. Treat each element of nature as if it were alive and thrumming with humanity and consciousness, as if it were your sister or your brother — because in truth, they all are, each and every one.
Your exercise/journal prompt: If you were to describe your relationship with nature, what would be 5 words you would use to describe it? How do you define nature? What are 3 words that describe how nature makes you feel? When was the last time you were in nature, whether it was a hike or a city park? What are 3 ways you can can cultivate more regular nature in your life?
Resource to check out: Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants, is the GOAT. My best, most impactful, favorite book of all time. A must read for anybody who wants a connection to something larger and more sacred around them, particularly with the natural world. The author, Robin Wall Kimmerer, is a Native American author, botanist, and professor who blends indigenous knowledge with scientific understanding. I say this sincerely: the way you look at the natural world after reading this book will be forever and permanently changed, in the best of ways.
5. Venerate your ancestors. The way I do this is I have built a small bookshelf in my office that serves as an ancestor altar. I have photos of grandparents, great grandparents, trinkets that belonged to them or have meaning. Every morning I light a candle and sit down and talk to them. Yup, just like I’m recording a voice memo to a very living friend or relative. I update them on boring shit: the weather, illnesses, work stuff, state of the world (my grandfather and his father, Francois and Adolfe — I KNOW they are rolling in their graves about Trump, both as servicemen who fought against fascism and professors and diplomats who championed democracy across the world. But they still want the goodies, so I dutifully tell them the news). Then I ask them all to give me some counsel via a Tarot deck and I note what they’ve said for the day. Maybe I wave some incense around, and I go on to the rest of my merry morning.
This is a spiritual version of ancestor veneration, but yours doesn’t have to look like that. You can simply have photos of loved ones who have passed throughout your house — in fact, you probably already do! Look at you, connecting with the dead. Thumbs up. I’m sure you’ve got mementos here and there, too. As I write this I’m wearing my grandmother Margaret’s fleece vest; that’s another form of remembrance, veneration, connection.
To connect with your ancestors, you don’t have to speak to them out loud or build an altar (though you certainly could, and I highly recommend you consider it. They really like it). Maybe buy some flowers and put it next to their photos. Light a candle, too. Or just think of them fondly, talk about them to others, journal about or to them, and remember your place in the larger chain of humanity unfolding on this unwieldy planet. They gave you strengths, and gifts, and struggles; they persevered so you could step next onto the stage of this strange world and bring your heart and talents forward. Let’s just take a moment here and there to remember them.
Your exercise/journal prompt: Just spend some time researching your ancestry and writing it out on both sides, maternal and paternal. How far back can you name? What can you research about, say, your great-grandmother who lived in Germany, or China, or elsewhere? Pick one ancestor, and do your best to find a book, fiction or non, that might describe the time and place they lived in, and read it.
Resource: Daniel Foor does amazing ancestral work, though it may lean a bit more on the spiritual side than secular folks might be comfortable with. But why not stretch your mind? You can read his book, Ancestral Medicine Rituals for Personal and Family Healing.
6. And finally, live as many moments as you can with intention. According to the dictionary, "intention" is defined as:
A determination to act in a certain way: a purpose or goal that directs one's actions.
An aim or plan: the intended outcome or purpose behind an action.
In essence, an intention reflects a person's motivation, objective, or purpose for taking a specific course of action.
Like this:
What is your why?
What is your why for the work that you do?
What is your why for the place that you live?
What is the reason you chose this decision, or that act, or this relationship or that purchase?
What do you intend with you presence and time here on earth?
Breathe intentions and wishes into your coffee each morning. As you do your laundry, imagine abundance and health permeating the detergent bubbles. Walk with purpose and gratitude and a right mind into the work day; write in your journal one line, “My intention for today is to ______;” and know, the best you can, the why behind every decision you make.
Knowing, to the very best of your abilities, your intention and why behind every choice and act you make in this lifetime is the ultimate secular spiritual act.
Because it reflects an honoring of the desires on your soul; an articulation of your most important values; a declaration that what you do actually matters; a resistance to the autopilot of life that oppressive systems would have us step into.
So there you have it, a starting guide to your secular spiritual practice. Don’t feel you have to do all of these at once; just pick the one that most called to you and start there. The rest will follow and unfold in right timing, and you can know, as you cultivate a sense of ritual, sacredness, intention, devotion, veneration into how you begin to live your days, that you are doing this as an act to yourself, AND the world at large over the coming years. These practices can help you stay connected to your core values and resist the pull toward despair, division, or passive acceptance.
Let them become a grounding force, reminding you of your inner power and the possibility of transformation, courage, delight, joy—even in the darkest of times.
And while you’re at it, why not pick up a crystal or two? Just for funsies. :) (I recommend smoky quartz. And a LOT of black tourmaline for 2025.)