There’s a difference between saying “I breathe” and saying “I am breathing.” One is a label. A fact pinned to a board.The other is a pulse in motion — a truth that lives only in the moment it is…
Virtus Crescit Sub Pondere A traveler once wandered into a mountain village and heard the same story repeated by every tongue. Nothing grows up there, they said, pointing to the ridgeline where the cliffs broke the sky. The soil…
There’s a curious quirk in modern Paganism that always makes me grin. We’ll gladly accept a handwoven dreamcatcher for spell work.We’ll happily take a bottle of homemade mead for energy healing.We’ll even nod approvingly if someone mows our lawn…
There was once a well carved deep into the earth, lined with stone, ringed with moss, patient as centuries.Yet this well had no water. It was hollow, dry, waiting. And in the long nights when moonlight spilled down its…
There is a space the world seldom notices.A moment stretched thin—where one bell has ceased its ringing,and the next has not yet begun. The air still quivers.The ear still listens.The body still waits for what is not yet here.…
On the coldest night of the year, a lantern was lit.Its flame was meant only to guide someone home — a simple beacon, no more. But days passed.Snow buried the path, the wind carved its own rivers through the…
Forgiveness isn’t about excusing the harm—it’s about freeing your heart from the weight of someone else’s choices. In this reflection, Papa Onyx invites you to explore what it means to let go without letting someone back in, and how forgiveness can become a sacred act of reclaiming your own becoming.
You must be brave enough to burn, but strong enough to fly. This post explores how we can honor the lessons of pain without getting trapped in them—by embracing sacred action as a form of spiritual wisdom.
There are moments when the gods speak not through burning bushes or whispered dreams, but via action flicks laden with explosions, bleached hair, and the inexplicable presence of three seashells. Demolition Man, that glorious spectacle of '90s excess, is…
The hearth may have seemed quiet, but behind the veil, the fire was alive—crackling, whispering, reshaping. This wasn’t a pause. It was a passage. I haven’t been idle, though much of what’s unfolded hasn’t been for public eyes. The…