Being a High Priestess involves more than most people realize. It’s not just lighting candles and saying prayers—it’s a daily balance of devotion, intuition, emotional labor, and sometimes wrangling a chaotic inbox. But let’s not get lost in the titles. Instead, let me show you what it actually looks like.
Here’s a glimpse into a day in my life—messy, magical, and real.
Morning: Coffee, Canines, and Communion
Every morning begins with coffee. And not just any coffee—I am a full-fledged coffee snob. I keep several flavors on hand, and I choose based on my mood… or occasionally, based on which of my deities appreciate too. I often brew an extra portion as an offering for their altars. It’s a small gesture, but it’s deeply meaningful—a ritual of warmth and connection to start the day.
Then comes the chaos of dogs.
The morning isn’t complete without snacks for my furry companions, particularly Bean, who starts every day with attitude and a snack schedule she will enforce. She’s not subtle about it, either. Side-eyes, stompy paws, and the “excuse me, mother” stare are all standard protocol. Once the snacks have been distributed and the coffee has brewed, I finally get a few minutes of stillness.
In those quiet moments, I reach out to my deities. I invite them to sit with me as I look over the day ahead. I speak with them—sometimes aloud, sometimes in quiet thought—and ask if they have any guidance for me. Most days, they’re just happy to be present. It’s less about divine commands and more about companionship. But occasionally, they have requests—gentle nudges or focused instructions that steer the day’s energy.
This is also when I check in with myself. Living with chronic illness means that every day requires assessment: Where are my energy levels? What’s manageable today? What needs adjusting?
Only after coffee, connection, and self-checks do things really begin to move. The house stirs—my kids and husband get up, the dogs begin their second round of chaos—and the day officially starts. From that point on, I step into my roles: content creator, spiritual counselor, priestess, partner, parent, and everything under the wide umbrella of Witchy Corner Productions.
And that’s just the morning.
Midday: Magic Meets the Mundane
Midday—usually stretching from late morning into early afternoon—is when the real magic of my work takes shape. This is the time when I shift fully into my priestess and creative roles, blending spiritual guidance with content creation, writing, planning, and connecting.
It’s when I sit down to answer emails, schedule interviews, and prepare for conversations that are often just as spiritually fulfilling as they are educational. Whether I’m planning podcast episodes, drafting new materials, or responding to someone in need of a little light and clarity, this part of the day hums with intention and purpose.
It’s also when I remind myself to do all the “spicy little human things” we neurodivergent folks tend to forget—like eating, hydrating, taking my medication, and doing those gentle check-ins with myself to make sure I haven’t vanished into a whirlwind of tasks without taking care of my body.
What I love most about this part of the day is watching how my spiritual life and my creative life continue to blend into one another. Through the podcast, I get to hear from incredible teachers, authors, witches, and mystics—each of them bringing their own perspectives on magic, deity work, healing, and how we navigate this chaotic world. These voices become part of the web I’m weaving, and I get the honor of being the one who helps connect the threads.
And on the best days, I get to write.
Right now, I’m working on a new book. I’m keeping it mostly under wraps for the moment (no spoilers), but I’ll tease more in the future. For now, I’ll just say—it’s nonfiction, and it’s something I’ve wanted to write for a long time. Fiction is taking a nap while I focus on the depth and soul of this new project. The outline is coming together beautifully, and if the manuscript unfolds the way I feel it will, this book will be something truly special. I can’t wait to share it with you when the time is right.
Midday is the heart of my productivity. It’s when I try to get as much done as my body and brain will allow—because once the afternoon rolls around, the energy starts to wane.
"Not every sacred moment looks like candlelight and chants. Sometimes it’s dog snacks, emails, and Minecraft. All of it is sacred."
Afternoon: Sacred Stillness and Spoon Checks
Afternoons are what I lovingly call “dark time.” This is when I step away from the doing and embrace the stillness. It might look like a nap, or simply laying in bed with the lights off and the curtains drawn. It sounds peaceful—and it is—but it’s also essential. If I don’t carve out this pocket of rest, the evening becomes nearly impossible. My body crashes. My mind fuzzes out. And the spark I need to carry through the rest of the day flickers too low to keep going.
I’ve learned—through chronic illness, priestesshood, and just life itself—that rest is sacred. Sometimes, I spend this time in prayer or quiet meditation, letting the divine whisper into the silence. But more often than not, I’m simply allowing my brain to recover, to recalibrate after the whirlwind of morning and midday tasks.
On days when I’ve made the mistake of checking the headlines (you know the ones), this is when the anxiety creeps in too. So this time becomes doubly important. It’s a space for me to breathe, to reflect, and to ask: how many spoons do I have left today? What do I need to make it to dinner, to family time, to my spiritual work in the evening?
Because here’s the truth: I can’t hold space for others unless I’ve held space for myself.
Evenings are often filled with community responsibilities, magical workings, or just the gentle chaos of family life. I have to make sure I’ve saved enough energy to be fully present for all of that. My afternoon “crash time,” “dark time,” “me time”—whatever you want to call it—is how I do that. It’s the recharge, the reconnection, the sacred pause.
And let’s be very clear: there is nothing wrong with taking time for yourself. In fact, it’s one of the most powerful things you can do.
"Some days, priestess work is powerful ritual. Other days, it’s letting your deities sit with you while you cry and play video games. Both are holy."
Evening: The Sacred Work Begins Again
Being a priestess is kind of like having a full-time job while also… having another full-time job. But luckily, I’ve been gifted the ability to blend my calling with my content creation. Or, as The Morrígan so affectionately reminds me: “You are a priestess who makes content, not a content creator who happens to be a priestess.” And you know what? She’s absolutely right.
Evenings are when the deeper work begins.
Most nights, I’m showing up for someone or something—whether it’s coven time, community work, or holding sacred space for others. Like tonight. I’ll be stepping into my High Priestess role to help others walk through their own healing and empowerment, even if I’m tired, even if my spoons are running low. That’s the oath. That’s the work.
One of the most profound parts of my evenings lately has been our daily devotional practice. It’s a simple, sacred offering of time and presence. And yes, I know—it sounds like something we should all be doing anyway. But let’s be real: life is messy. Kids, family, chronic illness, the sheer weight of the mundane—it’s easy to forget our spiritual practices in the chaos. I’m not immune. I’m a priestess, but I’m still human.
That’s why this daily practice matters so much. It keeps me grounded. It allows me to connect—not just for myself, but for others too. I hold space for my own deities, for the deities of my coven, and for the deities of those who show up and ask for that space. Even if I don’t work with their gods directly, I still offer prayers and reverence on their behalf, giving them a place to reconnect when they’re too depleted to do it alone.
And that… that is holy work.
In these moments, I get to channel divine messages, engage in spirit work, and support those who are struggling—who need someone to carry the flame for them until they can hold it again. That kind of spiritual caretaking has become one of my favorite aspects of priestesshood. At least for this week. (Ask me again next week—it changes.)
But tonight, like many nights, I get to show up. I get to guide. I get to be present in the sacred.
It’s not just a calling. It’s not just a title. It’s a life I love.
A Life Fully Lived in Sacred Service
Living each day as a priestess is beautiful. It’s sacred. It’s exhausting—in the best ways, and sometimes in the hardest. It’s ever-evolving, constantly shifting, and deeply, deeply real. But above all, it is incredible.
I get to walk in profound relationship with my deities. I get to support a community of magical, brave, resilient souls. I get to witness transformation—my own, and others’. Since the day I said yes and took up the mantle (or sword, depending on the day), everything has changed. My path has not been easy, but it has been the most fulfilling work I’ve ever done.
This life is all-encompassing. And lately, I’ve been reflecting on just how deeply this path touches every part of my life. From the compassion I offer myself on hard days, to the sacred lessons I share with my coven and family… to the quiet, sacred moments of reflection when the anxiety creeps in… every moment is woven with devotion.
And yes—sometimes that devotion looks like me playing video games with my deities.
That might sound silly to some. But when I was at my lowest, when I had no spoons, no strength for ritual or reverence, video games became my escape. My lifeline. And I invited them in. “Come sit with me. I don’t have much to give, but I still want you here.” And they came. They stayed. We laughed. We cried. We survived.
Those moments were holy too.
Not every priestess moment looks like candlelight and incantations. Sometimes it’s dog snacks and emails. Sometimes it’s tears and tea and texts. Sometimes it’s Minecraft and Call of Duty. All of it is sacred. All of it is real.
Being a priestess isn’t glamorous. It’s honest. It’s hard work. It is, without a doubt, the most meaningful thing I’ve ever done.
And I would never, ever trade it for anything.
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