Unlike religious traditions that present divinity as perfect and infallible, Greek deities offer something refreshingly different—gods and goddesses who make mistakes, act impulsively, feel jealousy, and sometimes behave badly. This “cosmic soap opera” provides a spiritual model that acknowledges the complexity of human experience rather than demanding impossible perfection. When your deity once transformed a lover into a tree during a bad day (looking at you, Apollo), suddenly your own relationship missteps seem less catastrophic. This doesn’t excuse harmful behavior but offers a pathway toward self-compassion that psychological research suggests can reduce shame and self-criticism.
Working with Athena, the goddess of strategic wisdom, offers practical tools for navigating complex decisions and overcoming analysis paralysis. Her energy isn’t about abstract philosophical wisdom but about practical, get-things-done intelligence. For overthinkers and people-pleasers, channeling Athena means gathering information, considering options, making a decision, and then acting without endless deliberation or seeking universal approval. In workplace conflicts, her diplomatic yet firm approach cuts through drama in favor of effective solutions. The shadow side of her energy—becoming overly rational and emotionally detached—reminds us that every divine archetype carries both gifts and challenges.
Aphrodite represents another powerful divine energy that transcends the superficial Valentine’s Day imagery often associated with her. Far from being merely about romance and attraction, Aphrodite embodies fierce self-worth and authentic connection. Her message is uncompromising: you cannot love others healthily if you don’t first love yourself. Working with Aphrodite means recognizing your value, setting boundaries in relationships, and refusing to accept less than you deserve. Her revenge stories, while not templates for behavior, contain profound lessons about self-respect and teaching others how to treat you. The shadow aspects of her energy—vanity and manipulation—remind us that authentic connection requires vulnerability, not performance.
Apollo and Persephone offer complementary guidance for those undergoing major life transitions and healing processes. Apollo, associated with truth-telling, creative expression, and medicine, helps cut through illusions and face reality even when uncomfortable. His energy supports honest self-assessment and difficult conversations with oneself and others. Persephone, whose journey from sheltered maiden to Underworld Queen represents profound transformation, reminds us that sometimes apparent disasters contain the seeds of our greatest growth. Her story challenges the cultural narrative that personal development should be smooth and linear, instead embracing the necessary darkness that precedes rebirth.
The practical application of working with Greek deities doesn’t require literal belief in their existence as individual beings. Many practitioners view them as psychological archetypes or symbolic representations of different aspects of human experience. What matters is whether engaging with these energies helps you live better, make wiser decisions, and become more authentically yourself. Simple practices like offering olive oil to Athena or honey to Aphrodite, meditating on their qualities during daily activities, or asking for their perspective when facing challenges can provide powerful alternative viewpoints to your own habitual thinking.
The Greek gods offer a spirituality that embraces imperfection while still encouraging growth. They meet us where we are—beautiful mess and all—and help us work with our humanity rather than attempting to transcend it. In their stories, we find permission to be flawed while still striving for something better, recognizing that wisdom comes not from avoiding mistakes but from learning from them—both the gods’ mistakes and our own.
]]>Ancestor veneration stands as one of the most fundamental—and often misunderstood—practices in historical paganism. While many modern practitioners worry about "unworthy ancestors" or unknown family histories, the historical evidence shows us a practice that was both simpler and more profound than many imagine. Let's explore what we actually know about how our ancestors honored their own ancestors, based on archaeological evidence rather than Victorian romanticism or social media aesthetics.
The physical evidence of ancestor veneration is both abundant and fascinating. Key findings include:
These weren't complex, yearly ceremonies but simple, daily practices:
Based on the Roman morning salutatio:
Adapted from Germanic traditions:
Remember: Items serve to keep ancestors in YOUR thoughts
Start small, start simple, start where you are. Our ancestors developed their practices over generations—we can do the same. Build your practice naturally and sustainably, knowing that the simplest actions, done with intention, can be the most profound.
This post was adapted from episode 9 of Old Gods and New Pagans podcast. For more detailed discussion and additional resources, listen to the full episode wherever you get your podcasts.
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Content Warning: This article discusses topics including violence, sexual assault, sacrifice, and manipulation.
Forget everything Marvel taught you about Odin. Anthony Hopkins portrayed a wise, if stern, father figure. However, the historical Odin of Norse mythology was far more complex. He was also far darker. Let's peel back the layers of this fascinating and troubling figure.
First, let's talk names. Odin, Wodan, Woden – all variations of a name that literally means "fury" or "frenzy." Yes, that's right: the supposedly wise All-Father is named after being in a violent rage. This should be our first clue that we're dealing with something far more complicated than a benevolent sky daddy.
Odin's domains included wisdom, death, war, poetry, magic, and prophecy. He was accompanied by two ravens, Huginn and Muninn (Thought and Memory), who brought him news from across the Nine Worlds. And yes, he had only one eye – but the story behind that missing eye tells us everything we need to know about who Odin really was.
Picture this: You're standing before Mímir's Well, which contains all the wisdom of the universe. The guardian says you can have a drink – if you're willing to pay with something precious. What do you do?
If you're Odin, you pluck out your own eye and drop it in.
But that's not even his most extreme sacrifice. In one of the most famous passages from the Hávamál, Odin describes hanging himself from Yggdrasil, the World Tree, for nine nights:
I know that I hung on a windy tree
nine long nights,
wounded with a spear, dedicated to Odin,
myself to myself,
on that tree of which no man knows
from where its roots run.
This wasn't noble self-sacrifice – this was obsession. Odin would do anything, pay any price, to gain more knowledge and power. Including practicing seidr, a form of magic so taboo for men that even gods were mocked for using it.
Remember how cool Valhalla seemed? The great hall where brave warriors feast and fight forever? Here's the dark truth: it was ancient military propaganda. Odin wasn't honoring brave warriors – he was collecting armies for Ragnarök, a final battle he already knew he would lose.
His earthly followers, the berserkers and ulfhednar, were even more disturbing. These warriors worked themselves into such frenzies that they would bite their shields, howl like animals, and charge into battle wearing nothing but bear or wolf skins. Archaeological evidence has confirmed the existence of these warrior cults, including evidence of human sacrifice – nine males of each species hanged in Odin's honor.
Odin was the original master of disguise, appearing as an old wanderer, a ferryman, or whatever form would get him what he wanted. And what he wanted wasn't always noble. The myths record multiple instances of sexual assault through deception and magic, including the story of Rinda and Billing's daughter. Medieval sources present these as clever tricks, but modern readers recognize them as serious crimes.
Perhaps most disturbing of all: Odin knew how it would end. Thanks to his hard-won wisdom, he knew about Ragnarök. He knew he would be swallowed by Fenrir the wolf. He knew the gods would fall. And yet he kept playing his games, collecting his warriors, manipulating and scheming and sacrificing – all for a future he knew he couldn't change.
Our main sources for Odin's myths – the Eddas and Sagas – were written down by Christians centuries after the Viking Age. While they might have altered some details, archaeological evidence supports many aspects of Odin's cults and practices.
Modern pagans approach Odin in various ways. Some focus on his wisdom-seeking aspects, viewing the problematic elements as later additions. Others engage with him as a challenging but important teacher. Many choose not to work with him at all – an understandable choice given his complex nature.
Odin's myths show us uncomfortable truths about power and wisdom:
The Marvel version of Odin might be more palatable for modern audiences, but the historical Odin teaches us far more important lessons about power, wisdom, and the prices we pay for both.
For further reading, consult:
Before we get into the nitty-gritty, let's tackle the big question: what exactly is mythology? In broad strokes, mythology is a collection of stories that explain the beliefs, practices, and values of a culture. These tales often involve gods, goddesses, and other supernatural beings getting up to all sorts of shenanigans with humans.
Now, I know some of you might be bristling at the term "myth." It's got a bad rap these days, often used as a synonym for "bullshit." But here's the thing: language is a tricky beast. Words can have multiple meanings, and they're all valid in the right context. So when I say "myth," I'm not passing judgment on whether these stories are true or false. I'm just referring to them as cultural narratives, okay?
You might be scratching your head, thinking, "Wait a minute, Matt. How can someone be a pagan and an atheist? Isn't that like being a vegetarian butcher?" Well, not quite.
Atheistic pagans embrace many pagan practices, symbols, and rituals without necessarily believing in literal deities or supernatural beings. They might see gods and goddesses as personifications of natural forces or metaphors for the human experience.
Take Odin, for example. An atheistic pagan might view him not as a literal one-eyed god wandering around Midgard, but as a symbol of wisdom, war, death, and magic. It's like looking at wisdom and thinking, "You know what? Let's slap a beard on that concept and call it Odin."
For atheistic pagans, myths are often viewed as just stories—narratives created by humans to explain the world around them or teach moral lessons. They're cultural artifacts with symbolic significance, not literal truths.
On the other side of the coin, we have theistic pagans. These folks believe in the existence of deities and supernatural beings who are active and present in the world today. For them, myths aren't just stories—they're sacred texts that convey divine truths.
But even among theistic pagans, there's a spectrum of interpretation:
Here's the kicker: there isn't one. Whether you're an atheistic pagan who sees these myths as symbolic stories, or a theistic pagan who believes in their literal truth, there's no "correct" way to approach these mythologies.
These stories have been passed down through generations, inspiring, challenging, and guiding us in our spiritual journeys. Paganism is always evolving, just like the world around us. New interpretations pop up, old ones fade away, and the wheel keeps turning.
The next time you dive into a myth, take a moment to consider different perspectives. How do you interpret it? What lessons can you learn, regardless of whether you see it as literal truth or metaphor?
Remember, these stories are a valuable part of our cultural heritage. They contain wisdom that's still relevant today, whether you're reading them as historical accounts or as elaborate metaphors for the human condition.
So, fellow pagans and curious onlookers, how do you interpret the myths in your tradition? I'd love to hear your thoughts. Drop by oldgodsandnewpagans.com and let me know, or find me on social media. Let's keep these ancient stories alive, not by freezing them in time, but by engaging with them in ways that resonate with our modern lives.
Until next time, may your path bring you challenges you can overcome and always leave you a bit wiser with every step. Cheers!
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