The Pilgrimage:Creating Rituals That Truly Nourish the Soul

I recently read After the Ecstasy, the Laundry by Jack Kornfield, and one line keeps echoing: if you are on a spiritual path, it’s best to follow a practice that speaks to you.

That made me pause.

I grew up in the Greek Orthodox Church. The candles, the incense, the chanting, it all had a beauty to it. But truthfully, it never stirred anything in me. I kept waiting for it to land, to feel alive in my body, and it never did. For a long time, I thought that maybe spirituality just wasn’t mine to claim.

And yet, nature always reached me. The quiet of a wooded path, the sudden appearance of a bird overhead, the way sunlight spills across stone. That is where I feel fed. That is where something inside of me wakes up.

Path to Reflection: What is it for you? Where do you feel your soul breathe a little deeper?

Creating My Own Rituals

Over the past few months, I’ve been experimenting with rituals that speak to me. These rituals are not handed down, not imposed, but alive in my body. They’re simple, but they make me feel nourished and strong.

While reading Goddesses in Everywoman by Jean Shinoda Bolen, I realized how much I identify with the Greek Goddess Artemis, the goddess of the hunt, the wild one, the sister of the forest. Her image had followed me since childhood, from an old Greek mythology book my father gave me when we immigrated from Albania to Greece. It’s as if she had been waiting for me to remember her.

Path to Reflection: Who are the figures, myths, or images that have always stayed with you? What archetypes, stories, or even childhood fascinations still tug at you now?

A Ritual in the Park

Recently, I carried a stone into a nearby park—a stone I had bought months ago as a quiet sign of strength and prayer.

The stone I carry with me everywhere

On the trail, I noticed three fallen branches lying in the shape of a triangle. Something in me knew to step into its center. Holding the stone, I prayed to Artemis; not to some faraway goddess, but to the presence of her within me. I asked for stamina, for courage, for the boldness to keep exploring in every part of my life.

Sitting in the middle of the fallen branches

Then I paced the triangle, repeating mantras aloud. With every step, the words embedded deeper, etched not just into my mind but into my body. Later that week, those same phrases rose unbidden when I needed them most—like echoes from the forest floor.

Path to Reflection: Where might you create a small sacred space for yourself? Could you use something simple—a candle, a stone, a tree stump, even a circle marked in the dirt—as your ritual ground?

Path to Reflection

What I’ve come to believe is this: the god or goddess within is an affirmation, a reminder that we can reprogram our minds toward strength, love, and possibility. These rituals, whether spoken aloud, written down, or carried in the body, are ways of remembering.

So I’ll ask you:

• What practice actually nourishes you—not in theory, but in practice?

• What mantra, prayer, or word would you want etched in your body so it rises up when you most need it?

• What small ritual could you begin today, in your own way, with what you already have?

For me, it’s Artemis, a stone, and a triangle of fallen branches. For you, it will be something else. That’s the point.

Find what speaks. Follow it. Let it carry you.