All our articles at one glance

Spirituality sometimes has a PR problem.  It sounds like incense and escapism. Like secret orders, complicated symbols, people who know too much about zodiac signs and too little about boundaries and structure. And mysticism? Mysticism often sounds like something that only happens in monasteries. Or on mountaintops. Or somewhere with bad Wi-Fi. But here’s the truth: Mysticism isn’t exclusive. Mysticism isn’t elitist. Mysticism isn’t “for the initiated.” Mysticism is profoundl

Many of us know the myths surrounding Medusa – stories that, to this day, are told to us in a very particular way. Medusa, the most famous of the Gorgons, portrayed from the very beginning as a monster: snakes instead of hair, a gaze that turns people to stone – terrifying, threatening. But if we dare to look closer, it becomes clear: what truly makes her dangerous is not her appearance, not even the snakes. It is the anger burning within her. A fire born of isolation and pai

As an Urban Mystic and narrative artist, I know that words are not just tools for communication. They are instruments, spells, shaping our reality. Every syllable, every sound carries power – healing, connecting, destructive. Magicians have known this for ages, long before we heard about it in modern psychology or neuroscience seminars. Sound and Mythology: The Primal Forces of Creation Before words became sentences, and before music rang out in choirs and bands, sound itself

A Path of Belief Can Be a Home A path of belief can be a home. An inner place that softens when the world is too loud. A light we ignite when everything inside us is searching for guidance. And yes — that is beautiful. But spiritual paths aren’t just “woo woo.” They touch something deeply human: our need for meaning. Our need for connection. Our need for stability in a chaotic world. Psychologically, this can be healing. Rituals can help regulate. Community can support. Feeli

About Urban Witchcraft, Responsibility and a new Symbiosis It’s early evening. You arrive home and close the apartment door behind you, shoes off, bag set down, your body still half in work mode. Outside, traffic roars, somewhere someone speaks loudly into their phone, in the stairwell it smells of dinner—not yours. Your laptop has been open longer than you would have liked, your mind still full of conversations, to-do lists, and unspoken thoughts. You light a candle. Not cer

You walk through the city, past a church, an old chapel, and think, “Another saint here to protect me.” But what if I told you that many of these saints were originally powerful, ancient goddesses and gods , just wrapped in a Christian guise? On today’s St. Brigid’s Day (February 1st), I would like to take a moment to reflect on the deeper layers of those roots . Welcome to the urban world of saints – where Catholic faith and pre-Christian magic collide. Saints with Ancient R

It’s still early.The city is only half awake.I pad barefoot into the kitchen like into a temple with a kettle, switching it on while yawning so I can prepare my tea. While I wait, I savor this very particular morning quiet — the kind that wraps me in a sense of safety. I light a candle, because before the day really starts moving, I want to use the silence for a gentle invocation. “Brigid,” I say softly, and wait. The flame flickers. I take it as presence. Or as a quiet I’m a

Living in a city means being surrounded by countless cultures, traditions, and belief systems — layered, contradictory, vibrant. I love this about urban life. It invites curiosity rather than certainty, observation rather than dogma. I don’t understand everything I encounter, and I don’t agree with everything either — yet there is something profoundly beautiful about this daily coexistence of difference. This is part of what makes a city feel magical to me: its richness, its

There is an idea deeply woven into many nature‑ and earth‑based traditions that feels quietly radical in a world obsessed with self‑optimization: we are born whole . Not perfect. Not finished. But whole . In pagan worldviews, humans do not arrive broken, sinful, or in need of fundamental correction. We arrive as part of a living system — nature, community, ancestors, ecosystems — already belonging. Our task is not to erase ourselves or transcend our humanity, but to learn how

In a modern world that often elevates humans above nature, the pagan worldview feels almost like a counter-model – and perhaps that is why it is so refreshing. Here, humans are not the crown of creation, not divinely appointed stewards, and not distant observers of nature. They are part of it, woven into a network of relationships, cycles, forces, and stories far older than any human culture. Pagan understanding of nature is not just a spiritual stance. It is a life philosoph

In modern worldviews, death is often viewed as linear or final. In nature-based, pagan traditions, however, the afterlife is often multi-layered, permeable, and deeply connected with nature, ancestors, and cosmic forces. It is not a distant “end point,” but part of a living web in which everything continues — on different levels and in many forms. Well-known Afterlife Concepts in Paganism What we today call “ paganism ” encompasses a wide variety of traditions, cultures, and

The old gods have many faces. Some people see strength in them, others danger. For me? For me, they are one thing above all else: a calling. Quiet, persistent, unobtrusive. Certainly not political—but deeply personal. I am not an Ásatrú¹. I never have been. But I felt the Nordic world early on: in dreams, in deep forests, in moments when ancestors suddenly seemed to speak. Odin, Freyja, the Norns – they are part of my pantheon, alongside Celtic, Roman, female, queer gods. But

The first frost on a parked car. The hum of the city under a full moon. The faint green of moss reclaiming a wall. Even in the city, the cycles never stop. For many pagans and witches, life is not a straight line. It moves in circles — in rhythms, in repetitions, in cycles that echo the natural world. Observing these cycles isn’t about following rules or rigid practice; it’s about listening, noticing, and learning to move in harmony with life itself. In this article, I will n

With All Hallows’ Day — also known as All Saints’ Day — just behind us, an interesting thought came to mind. There’s something about this time of year, the thinning veil between worlds during Samhain (Halloween or All Hallows’ Eve), that draws attention to the interplay between the old and the new, the pagan and the Christian. It’s a liminal space — a moment to reflect on cycles, ancestors, and the sacred mysteries that live in both shadow and light. It made me think: many pe

This text was written in 2021, on an old blog. Some thoughts are timeless, others may have evolved further—but today it can blossom here in my new magical home. --> to the original article (in German) I recently found myself in one of those conflicts that you don't see coming – and then suddenly everything boils over. You may be familiar with this: first a spark, then fireworks of emotions. After the initial storm had passed and I could breathe again, I came across a term th

How fear-based beliefs shape our need for control — and what it means to choose love over obedience. Only a system that seeks control...

Let’s get one thing straight: witches don’t worship the devil. Or at least — most of us don’t. The other day, I read a sister witch’s reply to that old accusation and couldn’t stop smiling. Someone had asked her whether she was afraid of “serving Satan,” and she simply said: “Oh honey, I don’t worship men.” Mic drop. It’s funny, yes — but also deeply revealing. Because underneath this centuries-old myth that witches “serve the devil” lies something far more complex than super

I’ve got good news and bad news for the fundamentalists, the skeptics, and everyone in between: The bad news is, you’re doing witchcraft....

A sacred conversation for those still carrying shame in the name of God Religious trauma is a topic many people hesitate to address — often out of fear of offending believers or being perceived as hostile toward faith itself. And to be clear from the beginning: this conversation is not about mocking religion, dismissing spirituality, or making religious people feel small. It is about naming something that is real, researched, and lived by many: certain religious systems and p

There’s a part of me that hesitated to write this. Not because I’m unsure of what I feel — but because I know it will ruffle some feathers. Especially in the spiritual space. But as a witch and urban mystic and as someone, who experiences shadow work as something important as well, I believe in saying the things that are hard to say, especially when they hide behind glittery words and polished  crystals. So here it is: Not all pain is divinely planned. Not every trauma is a