As you explore the ideas, research, and stories I share, I encourage you to do more than simply absorb and repeat. In light of your own experiences, challenge my assumptions, question my conclusions, and feel free to laugh at my errors. I genuinely welcome the opportunity to reconsider and learn from new perspectives. After all, we are all on a shared journey, seeking greater understanding. I recognize that my mind clings to certain ideas as if they were absolutes, but I’m always open to seeing things differently. Together, as a community, we can help each other navigate past our mental roadblocks and continue forward on our path.
If you’d like to know more about me check out the about section. Cover image by the fantastic Gemma Dagger.
I write from my own perspective, primarily focusing on Scottish folk traditions, lore, and folk magic through the lens of Scottish and European culture. When I write an article like “Saining not Smudging,” it’s specifically for people interested in these European and Scottish practices. While readers from other backgrounds may find it interesting, it’s important to remember that my focus is on Scotland. I believe in the importance of embracing one’s own cultural practices. If this isn’t for you, that’s okay—you’re free to move on. I’ve faced criticism and even threats for my views, but it doesn’t faze me.
On that note, there’s a difference between cultural exchange and cultural appropriation. I’m not exclusionary or nationalist. I celebrate our beautiful, diverse, and syncretic culture, one that has evolved through a mixture of influences. However, I have zero tolerance for racism, homophobia, sexism, transphobia, ableism, or any kind of discrimination.
I’m not a reconstructionist, though I value tradition. There’s a fine line between rigidly recreating the past for the sake of it, and understanding why people did things the way they did. To me, the “why” is far more important than the “how.” While it’s valuable to know the traditional methods, we must always be mindful of the reasons behind them. If we understand the “why,” we can adapt these old ideas to modern life and avoid getting stuck in dogma.
I often reflect on how the mindset of our ancestors manifests in the present day. What can we learn from their practices that’s still relevant today? My writing isn’t just about listing old stories or describing rituals—it’s about analyzing and understanding them. I aim to explore the broader themes within Scottish tradition, and how they can inspire us to tackle contemporary challenges like climate change and the erosion of community.
If I were purely a reconstructionist, nothing would ever change. I’d be stuck in the past, clinging to outdated roles and ideas. But by understanding both the “how” and the “why” of traditional practices, we can apply these lessons to our modern lives in meaningful ways. For example, something as simple as drop spindle spinning carries a wealth of magic and lore that could otherwise be lost in today’s fast-paced, disposable culture.
The wisdom in old practices has much to offer, especially when it comes to addressing modern problems. By looking at how our ancestors managed things, we might find inspiration for new solutions. History is, after all, a dialogue between the past and the present.
I believe that refusing to evolve in a changing world is limiting. Staying stuck in the past might feel comforting to some, but it risks irrelevance. My interest lies in the intersection of traditional and modern thought. By asking how the “why” of the past can fit with the “how” and “why” of today, I hope to create new insights for modern life.
I don’t write from the perspective of witchcraft, shamanism, paganism, druidism, or new-age mysticism. While I loosely identify with animism, I recognize that Scottish folk magic and culture are syncretic—a beautiful melting pot shaped by countless influences over time. My current focus is on animism and ancestor veneration, though I remain open to exploring other viewpoints within our rich folk traditions.
The term “witch” has a complicated history in Scotland. While it’s been reclaimed by many, I don’t use it. It’s not because I’m anti-witch, but because Scottish folk magic has its own terms and meanings. Reducing it all to “witchcraft” erases the rich cultural nuances and makes it harder to understand the “why” behind our practices. I’m not interested in titles; what I do is part of my daily life, and it doesn’t require any special initiation or bloodline. Folk magic belongs to everyone—it’s the people’s magic, its is our commons, after all.
I also have reservations about the borrowing of practices from other cultures. As a Scotsman, I find it troubling when our fragile traditions are reshaped or misrepresented by outsiders so why would I do this to others? It can obscure the original intent of the practice, making it harder to understand and pass on. If they’re diluted or misrepresented, we risk losing valuable wisdom about how to live in harmony with our world. While I fully support cultural exchange, and learning from each other, it’s crucial to approach other traditions with respect and a genuine desire to understand, not simply to take what suits.
I encourage people to explore their ancestry and find their own “why.” Many with distant Scottish roots ask me if they can practice Scottish folk magic where they live. I’m not a gatekeeper, and I can’t give permission, but I do urge people to approach these traditions with care and respect. Just as my ancestors adapted their practices to new lands, you can too, by blending the “why” of your heritage with the “why” of where you live now.
Scottish folk practices are deeply rooted in community and the everyday. It’s not about grand rituals or special ceremonies once a month, but about how we live in right relationship with our surroundings, both human and non-human on a daily basis and how we are in the world with other people. The mundane, everyday things hold the most power when we approach them with care and respect.
I acknowledge the contradiction in my approach: I advocate for moving forward with modern adaptations, while also trying to protect the “why” of our ancient traditions. This is something I grapple with constantly in my writing and my life. Ultimately, I’m still learning, just like everyone else and this is why I started this website – to keep the information available and circulating for free. My writing, events, and projects are all part of my effort to bring these traditions into the modern world in a way that honors their roots while inspiring new ways of being. Together, we can build a foundation of tradition that we no longer need to fear losing.
If you’re going to explore your ancestral traditions, I ask only that you do so with respect and care. Folk practices aren’t reserved for an elite few—they’re for everyone, and they can enrich your life if you approach them sincerely. Make your ancestors proud.
Finally, I’m passionate about Scotland’s traditions and folk practices. If my enthusiasm sometimes makes me sound like a street preacher, I hope you’ll forgive me. Rather than finding fault, I invite you to share your thoughts and disagreements with me, so we can continue this journey together as fellow seekers, learning from one another and creating something meaningful for the future.