As the kids say “Opinionated Stitch Incoming”:
There was a post I saw ages ago that spoke of knowing the art of “Shutting the fuck up”. About not sharing everything you have going on. And I realise that this isn't unusual with the modern era.
And I think, as I engage more with online spiritual spaces and “pagans” that I am realising that nothing is sacred. No one beholds anything that is sacred. Not anymore at least. Sacredness has been slaughtered and sacrificed to comments sections and reblogs, views, and likes.
Sacredness cannot survive constant exposure. It withers and becomes washed out under comment sections picking everything apart. The sacred needs dim rooms, slow breath, and the courtesy of not being narrated in real time.
Sacredness is slow and relational. It is contextual. It is earned. It is protected.
This actually is what stemmed my post about how “Intimacy is Dead” I made a while back. It was short and sweet and to the point.
Online spiritual culture, by contrast, is fast, flattened, performative, and optimized for engagement. Everyone livestreams their altar like it’s a skincare routine. Everyone traumadumps their gods like they are fandom characters. Everyone explains the mystery until it’s just… content for social media consumption.
People mistake expression for initiation or authority. They mistake sharing for communion. They mistake visibility and clout for truth.
There’s also something quietly violent to me about the over-sharing I am talking about. Not just socially, but spiritually. Especially spiritually...
When people begin to give away everything personal to the masses, they train themselves out of discernment. They forget that not all ears deserve the same truths as well. This, I believe, is a massive contributor to the excessiven Fandom Behaviour that I so often see in these spaces. Whether that is the nonsensical godspouse discourse or what the gods do or do not do.
And this applies not only to the sacred. But your opinions as well. People do not understand when to simply stay quiet.
People forget or entirely do not seem to understand that some things are relationally bound. Some things only exist between you and the one you meet there.
Old traditions knew this instinctively. People who are of older traditions understand that silence is not gatekeeping; it is hygiene.
Privacy isn not secrecy for power. It is protection for intimacy. Intimacy that deserves to be treated like it is sacred.
And here’s the part that really matters:
If everything is shared, nothing is held.
If nothing is held, nothing is holy.
You can feel the absence. That hollowed-out quality. The way that spaces like this buzz with words but feel spiritually thin like your great grandmother’s soup that's been water down again and again until it tastes like nothing but vague herbs. The substance is gone. The flavour has been diluted. It is thin now. No longer nourishing and hearty.
So if some of you feel reserved, private, reluctant to “name” or display or explain? Then good. That’s not fear. That’s instinct. That’s reverence doing its quiet work.
Sacred things don’t ask to be posted.
They ask to be kept. Truly kept.
And honestly? In a culture that treats intimacy like currency, choosing silence is one of the only devotional acts left. It's the most devotional act at this point…
