Spirituality in everyday life looks nothing like what most people imagine. It’s not a Sunday morning practice or a shelf with meaningful objects on it — or at least, it’s not only those things.
Once a spiritual path is genuinely yours, it stops being a compartment. It becomes the framework everything else runs on.
The job I had to leave
A few years ago, I was working for a defence organisation. Good money. Interesting technical challenges. Perfectly reasonable colleagues.
And I couldn’t stay.
It wasn’t a dramatic realisation. It crept up on me — a low-level discomfort that I kept trying to reason away. This is just work. Everyone makes compromises. You’re not personally doing anything wrong.
But the discomfort didn’t go. Because once you’ve done the inner work — once you actually know what your values are and what you’re willing to stand on — it becomes very difficult to unknow it. My values are rooted in care, in healing, in the kind of work that adds something to the world rather than removing from it. Defence work, however well-intentioned, didn’t fit. I knew it. My path knew it.
So I left.
What spirituality in everyday life actually does
It doesn’t just give you something to do on feast days. It gives you a framework for the whole of your life — a way of making decisions that is genuinely yours rather than borrowed from an institution or a culture or someone else’s expectations.
For me, that shows up in obvious ways and in subtle ones. I choose employers carefully, with values alignment as a genuine criterion. My mornings begin with what I think of as a sacred shower — not because there’s anything mystical about hot water and soap, but because I’ve learned to use that time intentionally, to arrive in the day rather than just stumble into it. I touch the earth regularly — literally, feet on grass, hands in soil — because grounding is not a metaphor for me, it’s a practice. And yes, I ask Brigid for help with technical issues at work. She’s a goddess of the forge and of craft. She’s interested. She helps.
None of this looks like spirituality from the outside. That’s the point.
A real spiritual path is lived, not performed
The difference between a spiritual practice you perform and a spiritual path you live is exactly this — the lived path shapes the ordinary things. The work you take on. The boundaries you hold. The way you start your day. The people you allow close.
It took me years to build something like this. The Guided Path is designed to give you a structured, supported start — six months of live calls, workbooks, community, and Brigid as your guide — so you don’t have to find your way alone the way I did.
The founding cohort starts in two weeks. This is the last post before we begin.
If you’ve been considering it, now is the time.
[Find out more about The Guided Path]
I might be talking to myself here. But. I respect your writing and your craft, and I think you’re a good influence for women’s spirituality.
I can empathize with this. I left “normal” work on spiritual reasons. I used to be in Special Education. But the US ED department is strangled.
I have a strange faith which focuses around the Devine Feminine, as Mother Earth, whom I am given to believe is best symbolised by the epitomisation of feminine hyperabundance – think the Fat Venuses. I’ll link you at the end of this tired rant.
I’ve never found I cannot have my syncretic faith, as I can make it mundane with stewardship practises. “Feeding” the Goddess by composting food and biomatter, lessening my role in capitalism when possible.
I found myself at a job that names itself after Eos, handily, as I have a longstanding respect for Ostara / Eostre as an ancestral totem Goddess. But this company is a zero waste, composting adjacent production. Which I found satisfying as it followed my prayer circuit to Hermes to help me find gainful employment. Here I can be myself with relatively few strings attached.
Anyways. If you ever found cause to investigate my fledgling work, I’d be pleased to bandy ideas with you. Even if I am less devoted to Brigid, per say, she holds a high honour on my esteem as a Hearth Goddess in the way of Hestia / Vesta and Festa of Oera Linda fame. But. I’d expect that isn’t your purview as a businesswoman, to interact with schizo blogs. Nevertheless, if you do read this, may Brigid set your table and fill you to the brim with the Fat of the Land (Erin is said to come from an old Celtic word for fat of the Land.)
In exelcis pascamus Bona Matrem Pingues Terræ it pacem deorum cognoscamus!
Ad Deam Abundantia,
Paul
* https://vianegativa6.wordpress.com/tag/matriarchy/
I think in looking back some of my blurb seems snappy. It wasn’t meant to be.