on loving your gods
i strongly believe that loving your gods is an integral part of building a long lasting relationship with them. that is how you become closer, how you will lay a strong foundation for your future with them. if you do not have some kind of love, some kind of connection or care, what is the point? is love not a basic building block of life?
however…i’ve found that in a lot of modern pagan and spiritual spaces, things begin to be very…superficial. everything is for show, to prove that you are good enough to the others. people care more about being complimented on their massive elaborate altar than about actually spending time with their gods. they are simply too self-centered to care, or even realize it in the first place.
this leads me back to something i encounter often, a common denominator for many issues in the spiritual community, if you will—and that is the fear of being wrong. simply put, no one wants to be wrong in any way, shape, or form, and will go to great lengths in order to avoid it, including doing truly impressive mental gymnastics to make themselves “right”. no one knows how to be wrong or how to accept it when they are. they cry and kick their feet and dig in their heels, screaming about this or that. i feel it’s rather childish. being wrong is a natural part of life. everyone is at some point.
but i digress. this is about loving your gods.
i’ve heard some people say that they’re worried about messing up, or that they’re embarrassed to show love to a deity. they feel crazy or delusional, and i understand—it can feel a bit awkward at first, almost like some kind of act. in my eyes, it’s a bit like making a new friend, or reconnecting with an old one. you care about them, but it’s weird. as you spend more time with them, talking, doing things together, and getting to know one another, this will fade. similarly, this is how you can get closer with a deity. regularly going out of your way to do things for them and with them is a great start.
the truth is that love requires vulnerability. i personally believe that you cannot truly love your gods while trying to appear perfect. love demands that you approach them as you are: flawed. it means admitting when you don’t know something. it means letting your guard down long enough to build trust—not only with them, but with yourself. because love is messy. love is imperfect and chipped and broken and beautiful, and the only way to really know it properly is to jump in.
but loving your gods also means loving them in the ways that actually matter — not the ways strangers expect you to. devotion isn’t a performance art. it isn’t measured by the size of your altar or the number of offerings you can photograph. it’s found in the quiet moments where no one is watching: the whispered gratitude, the small choices you make because you feel them near, the soft awareness that you are not walking alone.
real devotion is built from attention. from time. from the simple act of remembering them in your daily life. its doing things because you can, not because you have to. loving your gods means allowing them to influence you. it means letting their presence shape how you treat others and how you carry yourself through the world. loving your gods means letting the relationship be mutual. it means you speak, and you listen. you give, and you receive. you show up, and you allow them to show up for you in return. love shows itself in the changes it inspires.
when you stop worrying about being correct, and start focusing on being sincere, everything shifts. the fear fades. the awkwardness softens. you begin to feel the bond for what it actually is—something living, something warm, something that grows in the dark and anchors you.
so love your gods. study them. see pieces of them in the world around you. embody their teachings, their truths, and walk their path. become a living altar. know that to love is to consume and be consumed.
because at the end of the day, love is what makes a practice worth having.