Deities
The first time I understood what “deity work” meant, I wasn’t in a temple or at an altar. I was behind a closed-down rail yard, photographing a stubborn strip of moss growing through cracked concrete. The air smelled like rust and damp soil. A crow rattled something sharp and alive through the trees. I remember thinking, there is something bigger here, and it isn’t asking to be owned. It was just… present.
What drew you to the idea of deities in the first place? Curiosity? Longing? A sense that the world feels too intelligent to be empty?
In Wicca, deity work isn’t mandatory. It isn’t a level you’re supposed to unlock. It’s an invitation that some witches accept, some explore cautiously, and some never touch at all. All of those paths are valid.
What Is Deity Work
Deity work is relationship, not transaction.
At its most honest, it’s about showing up and paying attention — noticing patterns, honoring forces, listening to the way the world responds. It can look like lighting a candle, but it can also look like kneeling to press your palms against cold earth and feeling the slow thrum of what lives beneath you.
There’s a spectrum here that doesn’t get talked about enough. Some witches are atheists who work with symbolism. Some work with archetypes. Some build deeply personal relationships with specific gods or goddesses. Some practice devotion. None of these are “more real” than the others.
Inviting a deity into your practice doesn’t mean giving up your power. It means opening space for something greater — and letting that presence change you, instead of trying to control it.
You aren’t placing an order. You’re opening a door.
Wait, How Do I Even Start?
I used to think choosing a deity was like… a personality quiz. “Which god/goddess matches your vibe?” type energy. Turns out it’s way more overwhelming than that 😭 I stared at lists for hours, felt kinda frozen, and convinced myself I’d “pick wrong” and get spiritually roasted 💀
Here’s what helped me unstick myself: you don’t have to start with a lifelong commitment. You can treat it like an intro. Read basic stories, see who you naturally feel curious about, and literally just sit with their name for a bit. No big ritual required. If someone’s symbolism or energy keeps popping up in your scrolling, your dreams, your tarot pulls? That’s a clue, I think? Correct me if I’m wrong ❓
How I actually started: I lit a tiny glitter candle on my altar, pulled one card from my anime tarot deck, and just… talked out loud. Introduced myself. No pressure, just vibes 🌙✨
I’m lowkey still learning who feels right to connect with, so tell me if you’ve found a way that worked for you.
Stay witchy 🌙🪄
Why Work with Deities at All?
Working with deities changes the texture of your practice.
When I work solo, the energy feels like a closed circuit — contained, focused, circular. When I work with land spirits, it feels local and intimate: the creek behind my apartment, the bay tree behind that Portland coffee shop, the specific wind that always rises before rain.
Deities feel… larger. Less tied to one place, more like weather systems that move through you.
They can lend shape to courage, clarity, grief, patience. They can act as mirrors — showing you parts of yourself you’ve been avoiding. They can make your rituals feel less like self-talk and more like dialogue.
But here’s the piece we often miss: you don’t need deities to be powerful. Solo witches are real witches. Energy work without gods is not “lesser.” Not working with deities is a complete, valid spiritual life.
You get to choose the scale of relationship you want.
Finding My Place at the Altar
Look, I’m not gonna lie—when I first got into Wicca, the Goddess-heavy focus threw me. Every book, every ritual, every damn thing seemed to center Her. The God felt like an afterthought. Supporting character. And I’m sitting there like, where do I fit in this?
Took me a while to figure out that the problem wasn’t Wicca. It was the books I was reading.
The God isn’t lesser. He’s not just the Goddess’s consort or some fertility symbol that shows up twice a year. He’s the stag in the forest, the grain that feeds us, the cycle of growth and death and return. He’s in my forge when I’m working metal, in the protection I build for my family, in teaching my kids how to use tools safely. That’s divine masculine energy right there.
And yeah, Wicca honors the Goddess prominently. She should be. But that doesn’t mean there’s no room for men, or that the God is some watered-down version of divinity.
I work with both. I honor both. Some rituals I focus more on Her energy, some on His, depending on what I’m doing. When I’m crafting protective amulets, I’m calling on His strength. When I’m working healing magic, I’m often calling on Her.
The gods meet you halfway. You just gotta show up and do the work. Your gender doesn’t exclude you from this path—it gives you a perspective on the divine masculine that’s needed. Own it.
Approaching Deities Respectfully
Respect starts long before the first candle is lit.
Research matters. Learn the stories. Learn where they came from. Learn what cultures shaped them before you try to invite anything into your space. You don’t need permission from a corporation to connect with the earth — but you do owe respect to living cultures.
Listening is more important than asking.
We humans love to demand signs. We want feathers on pillows and symbols in steam and dramatic confirmation. Sometimes signs are just a subtle emotional pull. Sometimes it’s the way your body reacts — a sense of stillness, a pressure behind the eyes, a warmth across your back. Sometimes it’s nothing at all.
Silence is an answer. Redirection is an answer.
You are entering relationship, not placing an order. Bring offerings if that feels right — water, herbs, light, song — but more than anything, bring humility.
Devotion in the Everyday
You don’t need fancy offerings. I see people stressing about this all the time. “Should I buy special incense? Do I need wine? What if I can’t afford fresh flowers every week?”
Here’s what I do: I pour an extra cup of coffee in the morning and set it on my kitchen altar. That’s it. Sometimes it’s a piece of the bread I’m baking. Sometimes it’s just lighting a candle while I’m doing dishes and saying “Hey, I see you. Thanks for being here.”
The gods don’t need your credit card debt. They need your attention.
My grandmother used to say the god she honored most was in her garden, her cooking, her hands as she worked. She never called it witchcraft, but that’s what it was. Every chore a ritual. Every meal an offering.
So yeah, offer what you have. Your morning coffee. A bit of dinner before you eat. A handful of birdseed scattered outside. The gods meet you where you are – which is probably standing at your kitchen counter, trying to get through the day.
Honoring vs. Worship
Honoring is respectful distance. Lighting a candle. Speaking their name. Acknowledging their presence. Inviting influence without surrendering yourself.
Worship is devotional. It’s regular offerings. Prayer. Structure. Surrender of some portion of your will to a greater rhythm.
These are not the same thing, and neither is superior. Both are real paths. Neither is more “serious” or more “advanced.” Some witches honor and never worship. Some worship and never feel owned or diminished by it. Your relationship gets to be yours.
The Many Ways We Know Them
Not every deity relationship looks the same, and that’s as it should be. Some practitioners speak of patron goddesses or matron gods—a primary deity they’ve worked with for years, perhaps decades, who guides their practice and meets them in dreams and ritual alike. Others work with many deities as needed: Brigid for the hearth, Hecate at the crossroads, Cernunnos in the wild places. Both paths are valid, and neither is more advanced than the other.
My own practice has shifted over the years. The goddess I called to at twenty-five is not the one I work with now, though I honor her still. Relationships deepen, change, sometimes fade like winter light. A deity who felt distant may suddenly arrive at your door when you need them most. Another may step back, their lesson complete, making room for new voices.
I’ve known practitioners who worked with one deity their entire lives, building a relationship as deep as roots in old soil. I’ve known others who moved through pantheons like seasons, learning what each had to teach. Both approaches shaped powerful, authentic practices.
Bide your time with this. Let these relationships develop naturally, through offering and attention, through showing up at your altar even when nothing feels particularly sacred. Devotion is built in the ordinary days—the daily candle lit, the whispered thanks, the small acts of remembrance—not just the moments of divine clarity.
They know you’re trying. That matters more than you think.
The wind keeps moving whether we name it or not. The earth keeps breathing whether we look at it or not. The deities are there. Whether you reach for them is your choice. If you do, reach with open hands and clear intention.