The Sacred Altar: What Truly Defines Me

Some people find meaning in shoes.

Some in clothes.

Some in precious gems.

Some in cars.

I understand that. I love beautiful things. I have particular tastes. I appreciate craftsmanship, design, elegance. There is nothing wrong with valuing material objects that express personality and aesthetic.

But what I have come to value most - what truly defines me in the external, material sense - is my sacred altar.

Not my wardrobe.

Not my jewelry.

Not my car.

….My altar.

What Is an Altar?

Throughout antiquity, altars have been used as sacred meeting places between the human and the divine. They were spaces of offering, devotion, gratitude, sacrifice, prayer. In temples, churches, forests, homes - an altar marked a threshold. A crossing point. A place where something ordinary became holy.

Many religious establishments have altars dedicated to their God.

But cultivating one - curating one - growing with one - for ourselves?

That is one of the most sacred forms of honor we can show ourselves.

I do not mean creating a shrine to ego. An altar is not about placing photographs of ourselves in adoration of our physical form. It is not about performance or vanity.

An altar is a representation of the inner parts of our soul.

It is the physical expression of the invisible architecture that sustains us.

The Story an Altar Tells

An altar can hold:

• Plant medicines that supported you in healing

• Stones collected from places that changed you

• Feathers from birds that crossed your path at pivotal moments

• Heirlooms passed down through generations

• Objects given in honor

• Symbols of vows you’ve made to yourself

Each item is a memory.

Each item is energy.

Each item is a marker along the path of becoming.

An altar is not decoration.

It is integration.

It is a living narrative of who you are and how you’ve arrived here.

And by honoring your altar - and the things you place upon it - you honor the people, the places, and the moments that have shaped you, carried you, and helped you along the way.

A Physical Anchor for an Invisible Journey

We are so often taught to value what can be measured.

Shoes have brands.

Cars have horsepower.

Gems have clarity ratings.

But what measures courage?

What measures healing?

What measures the moment you chose yourself for the first time?

An altar does.

It holds sacred items and moments in our lives that we choose to give energy to.

It becomes a quiet witness to our growth.

It reminds us:

• of promises kept

• of grief survived

• of lessons learned

• of thresholds crossed

It is a way of honoring our path.

Our purpose.

Ourselves.

Honor Begins Within

Honor.

Respect.

Value.

These are words we speak often, but how often do we direct them toward ourselves?

If we cannot appreciate and honor our own paths - in humble, sacred ways - how can we truly appreciate and honor the paths of others without envy or judgment?

When we do not honor ourselves:

• We give ourselves to those who do not value us.

• We sabotage our dreams.

• We abandon our intuition.

• We participate in our own diminishment.

Self-honor is not arrogance.

It is alignment.

And an altar becomes a daily act of remembering that alignment.

The Altar as Practice

Your altar does not need to be elaborate.

It does not need to look like something from a magazine or a monastery.

🍃 Start with one stone.

🍃 One small token.

🍃 One candle.

Let it evolve alongside you.

Add to it when you cross a threshold.

Remove from it when something no longer resonates.

Sit with it.

Light a candle.

Touch the objects.

Remember.

Nurture it.

Feed it.

Let it be a conversation between who you were, who you are, and who you are becoming.

My Altar Defines Me

Not because it is beautiful.

Not because it is impressive.

But because it is honest.

✨It holds my prayers.

✨My grief.

✨My resilience.

✨My devotion.

✨My becoming.

In a world that tells us to define ourselves by what we purchase, I choose to define myself by what I consecrate.

My sacred altar is life.

It is energy.

It is memory.

It tells the story of who I am - and how I’ve gotten here - and the sacred aspects that have helped me learn and grow along the way.

And that, more than shoes or gems or cars, is what I value most.

Because mountains are not formed in a single moment. Paths are not carved in a single step.

Neither is the becoming of you or your altar.

They begin with one stone, one footfall, one sacred placing.

Start there….