The Pagan Roots of the Day of the Dead

Image by Chait Goli

Each year, at the beginning of November, families across Mexico and Latin America create vibrant altars decorated with marigolds, sugar skulls, food, and photographs. They gather to honour their ancestors in a festival known as Día de los Muertos - the Day of the Dead. Though now deeply entwined with Catholic All Saints’ and All Souls’ Days, its roots reach far deeper, into pre-Christian paganism and the ancient rhythms of life, death, and rebirth that have guided humanity for millennia.

Long before Spanish colonisation, Indigenous peoples of Mesoamerica - including the Aztec, Maya, Toltec, and Purepecha - celebrated death not as an end, but as a continuation of life. For these cultures, death was a natural part of the cosmic cycle. Rather than being feared, it was respected, even welcomed as a return to the earth and the divine. The Aztecs, for instance, believed that souls journeyed to Mictlan, the underworld, after death. This journey took four years and was aided by offerings left by the living - food, water, and the guidance of a spirit dog.

One of the most significant deities in this cosmology was Mictecacihuatl, the Lady of the Dead. She ruled over the underworld with her husband, Mictlantecuhtli, presiding over festivals that celebrated the departed. These rituals often took place in the ninth month of the Aztec solar calendar, around August, and lasted for several weeks. Offerings of food, flowers, and precious objects were made to ensure that the dead were honoured and remembered - a practice that resonates strongly with modern ofrendas (altars).

When the Spanish arrived in the 16th century, they brought Catholicism and the Christian calendar, including All Saints’ Day (November 1) and All Souls’ Day (November 2). Rather than erasing Indigenous beliefs, the two traditions merged - a process known as syncretism. The festival was moved to coincide with the Christian feasts, but the underlying worldview remained distinctly pagan. The result was a powerful blend of Indigenous spirituality and Catholic symbolism: candles representing divine light, crosses mingled with marigolds, and saints sharing space with ancestral spirits.

Even today, the Day of the Dead carries echoes of ancient paganism. The use of marigolds (cempasúchil), known as the “flower of the dead,” harks back to pre-Columbian offerings, their bright orange petals said to guide spirits home. The skull, or calavera, once symbolised regeneration and fertility - not horror, but the mystery of transformation. The act of feasting with the dead, of setting out bread, fruit, and tequila, is a ritual of communion that recalls the pagan understanding that life and death are forever intertwined.

At its heart, Día de los Muertos is a celebration of connection - between the living and the dead, the material and the spiritual, the ancient and the modern. Like Samhain in the Celtic calendar, it honours the thinning of the veil between worlds, inviting ancestors to join in a joyful remembrance. It reminds us that to celebrate death is to celebrate life itself: the endless turning of the seasons, the persistence of memory, and the sacred cycle that unites all beings in the dance of existence.

In a world often afraid of mortality, the Day of the Dead stands as a radiant reminder of pagan wisdom - that love outlasts the grave, and that every ending is, in truth, a beginning.

Origins of the Jack-o’-lantern

Museum of Country Life, Ireland

When October rolls around, one of the most familiar sights is the glowing face of a jack-o’-lantern perched on a doorstep. In many parts of the world, the pumpkin lantern has become a symbol of Halloween, casting its cheerful or eerie light into the autumn night. Yet this custom is far older than the modern holiday, and its roots trace back to ancient beliefs about light, darkness, and protection from wandering spirits.

The tradition of carving lanterns for the season began not with pumpkins, but with humble root vegetables. Long before pumpkins were cultivated in Europe, Celtic peoples in Ireland and Scotland carved out turnips, swedes, or even large beets. Into these hollowed roots they placed candles or embers, transforming them into protective talismans. The purpose was twofold: the light was a guide for ancestral spirits returning to the world of the living during Samhain, and the carved faces were a warning to mischievous or harmful beings to stay away from hearth and home.

Samhain, the great fire festival marking the start of winter, was a liminal time when the veil between worlds was believed to grow thin. It was a season both of reverence for the dead and of caution against restless or dangerous spirits. Carved lanterns carried the symbolism of fire - light in the darkness, life against death - and added a protective boundary around homes and villages. Bonfires blazed on hilltops for community protection, while the smaller vegetable lanterns served a household or individual purpose, glowing guardians against the night.

Folklore also tells of “will-o’-the-wisps,” ghostly lights seen at night over bogs and marshes, thought to be wandering souls or trickster spirits. The carved lanterns imitated or counteracted these uncanny lights, giving people a sense of control over the unseen. In Ireland, tales of “Stingy Jack,” a trickster condemned to wander the earth with only a carved turnip lantern, became entwined with the practice, lending the name “jack-o’-lantern” to these glowing faces.

It was only with the migration of Celtic people to North America that pumpkins entered the story. Pumpkins, native to the continent, were larger, softer, and far easier to carve than turnips or beets. Their size allowed for more elaborate designs, and their golden flesh glowed beautifully when lit from within. By the 19th century, the pumpkin had replaced the turnip as the lantern of choice among Irish immigrants, and the practice spread widely, eventually becoming inseparable from Halloween festivities.

Yet behind the modern decorations lies the older pagan symbolism. The jack-o’-lantern is not merely an ornament - it is a reminder of humanity’s ancient relationship with fire and light. It embodies protection, transformation, and the power of the hearth to keep the shadows at bay. In carving faces into gourds or roots, people gave form to their fears and their guardians, shaping spirit-beings from the harvest itself.

Today, when we place a pumpkin lantern in our window or garden, we continue a practice that stretches back centuries. Whether we carve a smile, a scowl, or something more abstract, we are echoing the age-old desire to honour the dead, ward off darkness, and hold a flicker of warmth in the turning of the year. The pumpkin lantern is more than festive decoration - it is an ancient fire, still glowing at the threshold of the worlds.

Suggested Books to Read for Samhain

As the nights grow longer and the air takes on that crisp autumn edge, many Pagans begin preparing for Samhain. It’s a time to honour ancestors, reflect on the cycles of life and death, and celebrate the turning of the wheel into the dark half of the year. Alongside ritual and celebration, Samhain is also the perfect season for curling up with a good book. Whether you’re seeking inspiration for your practice, stories that capture the magic of the season, or deeper insights into death and remembrance, here are some suggested reads for Samhain.

1. The Pagan Book of Halloween by Gerina Dunwich

This classic explores the origins of Samhain and Halloween traditions, tracing folklore from Celtic lands through to modern celebrations. It’s a wonderful introduction for anyone who wants to understand the history behind pumpkin lanterns, trick-or-treating, and other customs, while also offering practical ideas for rituals, spells, and seasonal activities.

2. The Circle of Eight: Seasonal Practices for the Pagan Year by Jane Meredith

While not solely about Samhain, Meredith’s book provides thoughtful ways to connect with each of the eight Sabbats. Her section on Samhain is rich with suggestions for ancestor work, reflection, and ritual. It’s a particularly good choice if you’re looking for a guide that balances personal practice with community celebration.

3. Samhain: Rituals, Recipes & Lore for Halloween by Diana Rajchel

Part of Llewellyn’s Sabbat Essentials series, this compact book is perfect if you’re short on time but want something specifically focused on Samhain. It includes ritual outlines, magical correspondences, recipes, and craft ideas. A handy, accessible resource whether you’re a beginner or seasoned practitioner.

4. The Witch’s Book of the Dead by Christian Day

Samhain is traditionally a time to honour and commune with the dead, and this book delves deeply into that theme. Covering ancestor work, spirit communication, and necromancy from a modern witchcraft perspective, it provides both practical techniques and thoughtful reflections. A good fit for those ready to engage more directly with Samhain’s mysteries.

5. The Book of Ancestors: A Guide to Ancestral Veneration by Mallorie Vaudoise

If you’re drawn to the ancestral aspect of Samhain, Vaudoise’s book offers a compassionate and grounded approach. It’s less about ritual and more about building an ongoing relationship with your lineage, whether through prayer, offerings, or healing ancestral wounds. It’s especially helpful if you’re looking for meaningful ways to connect with those who came before you.

6. The Halloween Tree by Ray Bradbury

Sometimes the best way to enter the spirit of the season is through story. Bradbury’s tale follows a group of children journeying through time to uncover the origins of Halloween. It’s atmospheric, whimsical, and surprisingly profound, capturing both the wonder and the solemnity of Samhain.

Closing Thoughts

Samhain invites us to slow down, reflect, and connect with the unseen. Books can help guide that journey, offering wisdom, practical tools, and inspiration. Whether you choose historical insights, magical practices, or evocative stories, may your reading this season deepen your connection to the ancestors, the turning of the year, and the mystery of the dark.

Let us know your top Samhain reading picks below.

Do Pagan Authors Need Instagram to Promote Books?

PWC on Instagram

In today’s publishing world, authors often feel pressure to maintain an online presence. Social media, particularly Instagram, has become one of the most popular ways for writers to promote their work, connect with readers, and build community. But when it comes to Pagan authors - those whose work explores spirituality, folklore, and magical practice - the question becomes more nuanced. Do Pagan authors really need Instagram to successfully promote their books, or are there other paths better aligned with the nature of their work?

The Case for Instagram

Instagram thrives on aesthetics. It’s a visual platform, filled with curated images, quotes, reels, and behind-the-scenes snapshots. For Pagan authors, this can be an advantage. Pagan spirituality is often deeply tied to visual symbolism - altars, ritual tools, nature, tarot cards, runes, seasonal festivals, and the beauty of the natural world. A well-curated Instagram account can be an extension of an author’s voice, a living grimoire of sorts that shares their perspective in a visually appealing way.

Readers are also on Instagram. Many people interested in Paganism, witchcraft, and related practices follow hashtags like #witchtok, #pagancommunity, #occultbooks, or #witchyaesthetic. By engaging with these audiences, authors can reach readers who might not otherwise discover their books. Instagram also gives authors a space to collaborate with others, such as book bloggers, witchy influencers, or small Pagan publishers. In this sense, it can act as a digital word-of-mouth network.

The Challenges of Instagram

However, Instagram is not without its downsides. It is a highly competitive, fast-moving platform that rewards constant posting and algorithm-friendly content. For writers who value deep reflection and time away from screens, keeping up with Instagram can feel draining or even antithetical to their practice. Pagan authors, in particular, may worry that the platform’s emphasis on surface-level aesthetics undermines the deeper, lived experience of their spirituality.

There is also the question of authenticity. Many Pagan practitioners value sincerity, groundedness, and community-based knowledge. The polished, market-driven nature of Instagram can sometimes clash with these values. Authors may feel pressured to perform spirituality in a way that fits trends, rather than exploring their path in a genuine and organic manner.

Alternatives and Complements

The good news is that Instagram is not the only option. Pagan authors can reach readers through blogs, podcasts, newsletters, or even local in-person events like bookshops, festivals, and Pagan gatherings. Many Pagan readers appreciate more thoughtful, long-form content than Instagram typically allows. A well-written blog post or podcast episode can build lasting connections in a way that a fleeting reel may not.

Moreover, Pagan communities often thrive in spaces that encourage depth of discussion - forums, Discord servers, or even private mailing lists. These platforms allow authors to cultivate relationships without the pressure of chasing likes or views.

Conclusion

So, do Pagan authors need Instagram to promote their books? The answer is no - but it can be useful. Instagram is a tool, not a requirement. For authors who enjoy visual storytelling and quick engagement, it can be a powerful ally. For those who prefer slower, more grounded forms of connection, other platforms may serve better. The key is alignment: choosing the spaces that resonate with your values, your audience, and your practice.

After all, the most compelling promotion is authenticity. Whether that happens through an Instagram feed, a monthly newsletter, or a conversation at a Pagan moot, the heart of the work remains the same - sharing words that inspire, teach, and connect.

If you're a Pagan author on Instagram, let us know whether you think it's been helpful in the comments below?

The Origins of the Wiccan Rede

The Wiccan Rede is perhaps one of the most recognizable phrases associated with modern witchcraft: “An it harm none, do what ye will.” For many practitioners, it serves as a guiding ethical principle, encouraging freedom of action so long as it avoids harm. Yet, despite its central place in contemporary Wiccan thought, the Rede’s origins are less straightforward than many assume.

Early Influences

To understand how it came to be, we need to look at its historical, literary, and cultural roots. The word rede itself is an Old English term meaning “advice” or “counsel.” Its use gives the statement an archaic, folkloric quality, as though it has been whispered down through the centuries. However, there is no evidence of this exact phrase appearing in pre-modern magical traditions. Instead, the Rede is a product of 20th-century occultism, shaped by the revival of witchcraft in Britain during the 1940s and 1950s.

One of the strongest philosophical influences comes from the works of Aleister Crowley, the ceremonial magician and founder of Thelema. Crowley’s Thelemic law states: “Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.” The phrase emphasized the pursuit of one’s true will, the deeper spiritual purpose of life. However, Crowley’s maxim lacked an explicit caveat about harm. The Wiccan Rede, appearing a few decades later, softened and reframed this idea, adding a moral dimension to freedom of action.

Gerald Gardner and Early Wicca

Gerald Gardner, often called the Father of modern Wicca, introduced the public to witchcraft in the mid-20th century. Though Gardner himself never recorded the Rede in its now-famous short form, his writings and rituals contained similar ethical guidance. Gardner emphasized the importance of avoiding harm and recognized the reality of magical consequences. The idea that actions - magical or mundane -carry repercussions ties closely into the Wiccan understanding of the Threefold Law: whatever energy one sends into the world returns three times over.

Gardner’s high priestess Doreen Valiente, a poet and influential figure in shaping early Wiccan liturgy, is often credited with helping crystallize the Rede’s expression. In her writings from the 1960s, she stressed the principle of personal freedom balanced with responsibility, echoing what would become the Rede’s essence.

The Rede as We Know It

The most famous version of the Rede first appeared publicly in 1964 at a speech given by Lady Gwen Thompson, who later published a 26-verse poem in the Green Egg magazine in 1975. This poem, which she attributed to her grandmother Adriana Porter, included the closing line: “Eight words the Wiccan Rede fulfill: An it harm none, do what ye will.” While there is debate about whether the poem was truly a family inheritance or Thompson’s own composition, it undeniably cemented the Rede in the wider pagan community.

Legacy

Today, the Rede is not a rigid law but a guideline. Different traditions interpret it differently - some view it as absolute, while others see it as situational advice. What remains constant is its enduring spirit: encouraging practitioners to act with awareness, compassion, and responsibility. Its blending of ancient language, modern occult philosophy, and community transmission illustrates how Wicca itself was woven together - rooted in tradition, yet evolving to meet the needs of new generations.

Let us know whether you abide by the Wiccan Rede below.

Valiente’s Most Influential Work: The Charge of the Goddess

When we talk about the roots of modern Paganism, especially Wicca, the name Doreen Valiente inevitably rises to the surface. Often called the “Mother of Modern Witchcraft,” Valiente was not only a practicing witch but also a gifted writer and poet. While she authored several important books - including Witchcraft for Tomorrow and The Rebirth of Witchcraft - her single most influential piece of writing isn’t a full book at all, but rather a work within it: The Charge of the Goddess.

Why The Charge of the Goddess Stands Out

At first glance, it might seem odd to single out this one text. After all, Valiente published numerous writings that helped shape the practice of modern Paganism, providing ritual structures, ethical frameworks, and practical guidance for solitary practitioners and covens alike. But The Charge of the Goddess, first written in the 1950s and later refined across her books, stands as one of the most quoted, recited, and beloved liturgical texts in Wicca.

It is no exaggeration to say that Valiente gave the Goddess her voice. Where Gerald Gardner had drafted earlier rituals borrowing heavily from ceremonial magic and Victorian occultism, Valiente distilled the essence of the Pagan revival into something lyrical, inclusive, and profoundly spiritual. She transformed dry ritual instruction into living poetry, words that inspire connection and devotion.

A Timeless Invitation

The Charge of the Goddess is written as though spoken by the Goddess herself, calling her children to joy, beauty, freedom, and reverence. In it, the divine feminine is not remote or judgmental but loving, immanent, and intimately involved in the lives of her followers. The words reach beyond time and tradition, appealing to anyone who seeks a spiritual path grounded in nature and personal empowerment.

For many modern witches, hearing or speaking The Charge of the Goddess for the first time is a revelation. It affirms that the sacred can be joyous rather than dour, celebratory rather than restrictive. It reassures practitioners that the Goddess meets them where they are—whether in circle, in solitude, or in the quiet moments of everyday life.

The Influence on Pagan Literature

From a literary perspective, The Charge of the Goddess did more than provide beautiful ritual words. It set the tone for Pagan writing in the decades that followed. Valiente showed that Pagan texts could be poetic without being inaccessible, mystical without being obscure. Many of today’s Pagan authors—whether they realize it or not—write in the tradition she helped establish. Her phrasing, rhythm, and imagery echo in countless invocations, prayers, and rituals published since.

Moreover, Valiente legitimized the idea that Pagan traditions are living traditions. By rewriting, editing, and adapting the words she inherited, she modeled the creative process that keeps Pagan spirituality dynamic rather than dogmatic. In doing so, she empowered future generations of witches and Pagans to find their own voice in ritual writing.

Why It Still Matters

Even today, more than half a century after Valiente penned her words, the The Charge of the Goddess continues to be recited in circles around the world. It’s a reminder of what first drew many of us to Paganism: the promise of a spiritual path that celebrates life, honors the Earth, and embraces the sacred within ourselves.

Doreen Valiente left us many treasures, but perhaps none shine so brightly as the words of the Goddess she gave to the world. For Pagan writers, her example is clear: when we write from the heart, our words have the power to shape not only rituals, but entire movements.

Find out more at the Doreen Valiente Foundation.

The State of Publishing in 2025

If you’ve wandered into the Pagan or earth-based spirituality section of a bookstore lately, you might have noticed the shelves are far from empty. In fact, publishing in this space is buzzing along nicely, with new titles appearing every season. From beginner witchcraft guides to deep dives into mythology and land-based practices, there’s plenty to read — and plenty of debate about the best way to publish these books in the current climate.

How Are Sales Going?

While exact sales figures are hard to pin down (publishers tend to guard that data), interest in earth-centered spirituality hasn’t slowed. Books that weave together spirituality, healing, and empowerment continue to do well. Think titles like The Cauldron and the Drum by Rhonda McCrimmon or New Moon Magic by Dickens and Torok. Broader cultural trends — mindfulness, climate consciousness, and a hunger for alternative wisdom — are helping sustain demand. 

Who Are the Big Players?

If you’re an aspiring author in this space, you’ve probably heard of the major publishers:

Llewellyn Worldwide – Perhaps the most recognized name in Pagan publishing, with a century-long track record. If you’ve ever picked up a book on Wicca, tarot, or astrology, chances are it came from them.

Red Wheel/Weiser – Another powerhouse, especially known for occult and metaphysical titles. Their catalog covers everything from witchcraft to esoterica.

Inner Traditions/Findhorn Press – Specializing in spirituality, mysticism, and earth-based wisdom. Their books often have a global, cross-cultural flavor.

Collective Ink (Moon Books and O-Books) – UK-based, with a solid reputation for Pagan and mind-body titles.

Mandrake of Oxford – A smaller press with a strong occult focus.

On top of these, you’ll find vibrant indie presses like Avalonia, Rockpool Publishing, Green Magic, and others that keep the field fresh and diverse.

To Publish or Self-Publish?

This is the question many Pagan authors wrestle with.

Traditional publishing brings credibility, professional editing, great cover design, and built-in distribution. Getting published by Llewellyn or Weiser can help place your work squarely within Pagan communities.

Self-publishing, particularly through Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing, offers higher royalties and creative control. You don’t need to wait for an acceptance letter — you can just upload your book and go live.

But there are trade-offs. Self-publishing means you’re responsible for editing, design, marketing, and finding your audience. And in a crowded Amazon marketplace, that’s no small task.

The Amazon Dilemma

Let’s talk ethics for a moment. Amazon dominates the ebook market, which makes it tempting — almost necessary — for indie authors. But Pagan readers and writers have been raising concerns:

Quality issues: Amazon is flooded with low-effort, AI-generated “witchcraft” books, which drags down credibility.

Reputation: Self-publishing can still carry a stigma. Some readers assume “self-published” means unedited or inauthentic.

Predatory services: A cottage industry of “Amazon self-publishing helpers” has sprung up, and not all are trustworthy.

Many Pagan authors find themselves torn: they want independence, but they also want their work to stand out in a sea of questionable content.

So, What’s the Best Route?

The truth is, there’s no one answer. Traditional publishers are still the best bet if you want community recognition and a professional finish. Self-publishing gives you freedom and potentially higher earnings, but you’ll need to put in serious effort to produce a high-quality book and get it seen.

Either way, the Pagan publishing world is thriving. Readers are hungry for authentic voices, diverse perspectives, and grounded spiritual practice. Whether you choose a trusted publisher or go it alone, what matters most is the heart you bring to the work.

Question for Readers

What do you think? If you’ve published (or thought about publishing) in this space, did you lean toward a traditional publisher, or did you brave the Amazon jungle?

Let us know in the comments below.