The Ritual is the Magic, or How to Create an Altar

As our world falls deeper into an abyss of violence and chaos, I’ve noticed many people longing to return to themselves, to nature, and to spirituality. The overwhelm of A.I., technology, and corporate monopoly has led many of us, collectively, to crave a deeper connection to our ancestors and their messages.

At the same time, it’s completely normal to feel uncertain about where to begin. Social media is awash with alleged spiritual gurus, brujas, and personalities hawking their classes and tools. While those spaces can sometimes be helpful starting points, I gently encourage you to first listen to yourself.

Ask yourself about your intentions, your beliefs, and what you are truly drawn to in the spiritual world. This path is not one of ego. In fact, it is a path of breaking down ego and revealing authenticity and an open heart.

And it is perfectly fine if you cannot initially define your longing. What matters is that you remain receptive, curious, and honest in your heart.

A simple working altar, one of six in my home. A candle, glass of water, sound bowl, my red belt and headband, two of my favorite decks. A snail shell and a shell from the Gulf coast.

Many years ago, I found myself in this same position. My spiritual path began in childhood, but for many years I was diverted as I focused almost entirely on academic and career pursuits as a psychologist. In scientific programs, you are taught to lead with your head, your rationale—and while it goes unspoken, essentially your ego.

I remember in one of my first research classes in my Ph.D. program, the professor asked if any of us believed the moon could affect human behavior. My hand shot up. I looked around and the other eleven students sat frozen, wide-eyed. The professor looked at me incredulously as I mumbled something about the ocean and women’s cycles. It was clear there was no room for what was perceived as “woo-woo.”

Years later, after my long ego/career journey, I found myself again seeking spiritual meaning and connection. I had experienced several intense episodes of spontaneous kundalini and altered states during meditation, and I felt overwhelmed. I needed mentorship, guidance, and structure to understand what was happening.

The first advice my mentors gave me was always the same: create, and return to, your altar.

The heart of a spiritual practice is your altar. And the magic of your spiritual practice is the ritual connected to your altar.

You will see this advice on social media, too. But I want to offer some specific suggestions on how to create an altar that energetically attracts what you need in that moment—because most of us are unaware of what we actually need.

An altar needs a few basic components: a dedicated space (a small table, shelf, or desk), a cloth covering, photos or images representing beloved ancestors or deities you feel close to, and symbols of the four elements.

Place a candle or two for Fire. A glass of water and perhaps seashells for Water. Incense or feathers for Air. Crystals, stones, or plants for Earth. Then add a small offering of food your ancestors may have enjoyed. Don’t overthink this part. Look around your home, step into nature, visit a botánica if you feel called. The energy of these objects attract and allow spirits to start communicating with you.

If you want to be more intentional, you can orient your altar toward the Direction whose energy you wish to invite into your life (more on the Directions in another cuentito). You can also add personally meaningful objects. I often keep my spiritual tools—tarot cards, Florida Water, my sound bowl—on my altar to cleanse and imbue them with energy.

Throughout this process, lead from your heart and from a place of joy. Begin listening to your intuition.

If you’re unsure what food to offer, close your eyes and ask your ancestors to send you an image. Words or pictures may appear. Don’t question them. Thank your ancestors for the message, and act on it.

Years ago, when I asked this question, a clear image of dark chocolate and hearty greens appeared. So I went with it.

The second practice I suggest is asking for a spiritual protector or guide to reveal themselves to you. Your guides will contact you in the exact moments you need them. While we all have many loving spiritual forces around us, certain guides step forward when their specific energy and magia are needed in our lives.

You do this through the ritual of tending to your altar.

Messages may be sent through the natural world around you. I love bougainvilleas and always stop to listen to them.

Each morning, light their candle and refresh their water. Through prayer or simple, open-hearted conversation, ask your ancestral protector to reveal themselves. The persistence and dedication to the ritual is where the magic lives. If days or weeks pass, do not give up. Continue.

And do not expect communication only through words or visions.

Look around. Is there a flower you keep noticing? A tree that seems to call to you? An insect lingering at your door? A song on repeat whose lyrics suddenly feel meaningful? What images appear in your dreams? Do butterflies or snails appear in your garden? These may be direct messages from your guide.

Your protector may not be your grandmother—though it could be. It might be an ancient deity connected to your lineage, an angel from your faith, a power animal. When you ask for signs, the spiritual world responds. You simply have to be present enough to notice.

One of my first protectors was a Mexica (Aztec) solar deity. After a week of prayer at my altar, I saw an image of a warrior standing beneath a rising sun in front of an ancient temple. Given my Indigenous Mexican heritage, this felt aligned for me. Another early guide was an archangel tied to Catholicism—also an essential part of my ancestral story.

Once you begin to sense a connection, start to build a relationship. Do not begin by asking for things. Just like meeting someone new, you wouldn’t start by making demands. You would offer them water, coffee, small treats you think they’d enjoy.

During this time, learn about them. Read their history, their symbols, their myths. Pay attention to the energy they bring into your life. Why are they arriving now? What wisdom or power do they carry that you need in this moment? Do they offer gentle compassion, or loving bluntness that helps you get moving?

These simple acts—creating an altar and inviting your protectors to communicate—are the foundational ways to ignite your spiritual path. The most beautiful part is that you can return to your altar over and over again.

Feeling confused about a pattern you are stuck in? Pray for clarity and light a white or yellow candle. Is your inner teenager acting out? Place a photo of your adolescent self on your altar and ask for healing and compassion. Asking a saint to help you move a goal forward? Place their image there with a cup of coffee for energy. Return again and again with gratitude and an open heart. Your altar is a place of grounding, peace, joy, and reconnection.

Don’t let your overthinking, analytical mind overwhelm you. More often than not, it pulls you away from your own path.

The other day, my daughter reminded me that you can create an altar anywhere. In the park, she sat down and arranged one from leaves, rocks, and a small toy a child had left behind. She even poured water into a large acorn cap as an offering. It reminded me that the ritual of an altar doesn’t have to be confined to what we build at home; it can arise wherever we are, from whatever is at hand.

Remember:

The ritual is the magic.
The ritual is the gateway. The ritual is the conversation.
The ritual is how you open your heart and begin to see clearly.