Quiet Practice - A DeafBlind Druid's Guide To Practice Without Speech

Why Do People Choose To Practice Quietly?

There are so many reasons why someone might choose to practice paganism quietly, without speech, or even without sound. It is important for those reasons to be respected by group leaders, peers, and even ourselves. I remember feeling so guilty on my journey through paganism, at times even feeling almost less pagan, simply because I didn’t want to speak during ritual or practice. While nobody ever directly shamed me for not speaking, I felt pressure everywhere, from the books that I was reading, in online groups, on social media, blog posts, you name it. Speaking was always the default. In every group practice, it was expected that we would all speak, and I don’t remember ever being asked if I was comfortable speaking along. This assumption is uncomfortable regardless of why we’re not speaking, but it can be even more uncomfortable if our silence is not a choice. Let’s dive a little deeper for a moment, and look at some reasons why someone might choose not to speak during their pagan practice.

Speaking from my own experience, sensory loss can be a big reason for not speaking during ritual. As a Deaf person, “repeat after me” doesn’t usually work very well, and it’s not something I’m excited to try. In group rituals, I often get lost if there are new things to say, or new people talking, as I’m not used to their voice and their lip patterns. I’m also terrible at judging my volume. I’m either too quiet, which in the grand scheme of things is not a big issue, or I’m too loud, which can be very embarrassing. The more people there are, the harder it is for me to figure out how loud I need to be for others to hear me. I wasn’t born Deaf as far as we know, and I was raised speaking. I still speak every single day, in every other aspect of my life, but during my practice it doesn’t feel right. There are plenty of other Deaf people who either can’t speak at all, or they choose not to speak in their daily lives, and instead use sign language. It is also a common experience for Deaf people to be forced to speak for the convenience of others, which is not OK. For example, often the cost of an interpreter has been not been included in a budget, or families of Deaf children do not want to learn sign language. There is no place for ableism in either paganism or druidry. For me, druidry is one of the few places I feel truly heard, even when I’m not making a single sound.

In addition, those with speech disorders may choose not to speak during their rituals. Speech disorders can happen to anyone at any time, so someone who was once the vocal heartbeat of the group may decide to take a step back and instead practice in a different, quieter, way. Strokes, dystonia, ataxia, jaw disorders, some cancers for example, can all lead to a person developing a speech disorder. None of these automatically exclude someone from a ritual that they would otherwise be a part of if they were willing and able to speak. Even in acute illness too, anyone on voice rest must not be excluded from attending rituals while they heal simply because they can’t speak. They may choose to attend and join in without using their speech, continuing to be an active member rather than simply passively attending, or worse, being excluded and isolated at home. Illnesses like laryngitis, or even voice strain may impact a person’s ability and desire to speak, so they may sit that part out, and practice in another way instead. Remember that speech disorders, like sensory loss, are a unique experience, and people with speech disorders may still choose to speak during a ritual, and deserve to be supported while doing so.

Another condition that might affect one’s ability or willingness to speak during ritual is dyslexia. Dyslexia is so often misunderstood as “just” a reading problem. And while reading comes into play when speaking during your pagan practice, ie. reading aloud from cue cards or books, reading is not the only thing that can be impacted by dyslexia. Dyslexia can actually affect speech itself. Often people with dyslexia find that words are on the tip of their tongues, but won’t actually come out of their mouths. Sometimes different words come out than intended, or they come out sounding different than they perhaps intended them to. And while this isn’t a reason to discourage people with dyslexia from speaking during ritual, some may choose not to because of this. Speaking freely to deity might be more difficult for them, or reading a poem during an Eisteddfod might be a challenge, so they may choose to do something else instead.

Being autistic may also impact someone’s ability or desire to speak during ritual. Autistic people may feel overwhelmed while speaking, and prefer alternative practices to talking. They may also be non­verbal or non­speaking both inside the ritual space, and outside in the mundane world. It is vital to remember that just because someone is non­verbal or non­speaking, it does not mean that they have nothing to say. All it means is an alternative method is needed to say it. Being non­verbal or non­speaking is not exclusive to autistic people. People can be non­verbal due to trauma, fatigue, mental illness, dementia, brain injury, cancer, or chronic illness, but being non­verbal doesn’t need a cause. Nonverbal people must always be respected regardless, both inside and outside of the ritual space.

Anxiety can manifest as quiet practice as well. As someone with anxiety, I can attest to there being many reasons why anxiety would stop me from speaking during a ritual. For example, I used to really struggle with public speaking­ a fear that is common amongst anxiety sufferers and the general population. When addressing deity or the spirits of a circle, for example, it can feel like you have an audience, which can in turn trigger anxiety. A fear of embarrassment can also be a factor, especially in group practice. Nobody especially enjoys being embarrassed, but for some people the mere thought of it can put a stop to their activities. This anxiety can range from mild discomfort, all the way up to a panic attack­ but sitting anywhere on this spectrum during a ritual is not conducive to a magickal experience, and as such, anxiety sufferers may choose quiet practice.

Disability is complex, and a person’s disability may cause a person to prefer quiet practice for reasons I’ve not listed here. Furthermore, disability is not the only reason why somebody might choose to practice paganism quietly.

Some transgender or nonbinary people (such as myself) sometimes experience gender dysphoria that can be triggered by their voice. Voice dysphoria can cause feelings such as anxiety, depression, panic, or cause them to go from feeling happy to feeling unhappy. In ritual spaces, I often feel most like my true self, and when I open my mouth to speak, and my voice comes out, that feeling is often altered. I will admit that it is rare for my voice dysphoria to be the reason I choose not to speak, but for some it is an everyday experience which can carry through to their pagan practice. It’s also worth noting that lots of trans and nonbinary pagans feel that their deities, or the spirits they are working with, will see them how they see themselves, and their physical form and physical voice will not impact that. The gods always know who we are. Voice training is undertaken by some trans and nonbinary people, which can be a difficult, expensive, and lengthy process. It can sometimes cause voice strain or fatigue, on top of mental fatigue, which can also lead to quiet practice being the way forward for some trans pagans.

Moreover, some people just aren’t confident in speaking, and that’s OK too. It takes time to feel confident doing any form of pagan practice, and that includes speaking. It’s OK to do something else until you feel confident in speaking as part of your practice.

In some situations, it may not be safe to speak aloud. Abusive living situations can impact whether it’s safe, or speaking out in public, especially at night. There are plenty of reasons why someone may not feel safe enough to speak to deity, and choose something else to do instead. Safety can also be about preserving the magick. As I mentioned previously the walls in my house growing up were paper thin. Speaking aloud would invite questions and interruptions, which does not make for a magickal atmosphere where I feel comfortable and safe enough to talk to my goddesses freely and without overthinking. If I were a Christian, I don’t think I’d like it if someone was eavesdropping on my prayers. Some people may react harshly towards finding out someone is a pagan, and even harsher when confronted with words to deities and spirits that they don’t understand. Being visibly pagan to people in this way can prevent you from feeling safe, thus making quiet practice feel like a safer alternative.

Plenty of people nowadays live in a shared housing situation. Some even share rooms with people. There is nothing wrong with this, and everyone sharing these spaces deserves to feel comfortable existing in them, and doing what they need or want to do. However, there may be an element of wanting to respect the shared space that prevents you from speaking during magickal workings. Sometimes we have the opportunity to make a compromise. Imagine someone is asleep in the bed across the room from you, having a nap before a big meeting or big exam, and you were to start chanting across the room to Pan. It would be far kinder, and far more in line with pagan values to let your roommate sleep. Perhaps wait to practice until they are out of the house, or choose something else to do that is much quieter, or easier to sleep through, like gentle music. Being a pagan isn’t a reason to be selfish or unkind.

Curiosity can also be a reason to practice quietly. If you’re looking for ways to branch out on what you’re already doing, quiet practice might be the next step for you. Perhaps you’ve heard of people practising without speech and want to see what it’s all about. Curiosity is as much of a reason to give it a try as anything else we’ve discussed. I think it’s important to explore different ways of practising paganism. It’s very easy to stick to what you know, but doing so can lead you to stifle your spiritual growth. It’s fantastic to find something that works, and having that ready to go is great, but do you want to stick with just that? Or would you like to expand your magickal toolkit for if you find yourself in a situation where your go­to practice is off the table. Lastly, maybe you just want to, and that’s great too. Paganism is the perfect opportunity to follow your heart or your intuition and do exactly what you want to do with no constraints. Everybody deserves to have their quiet practice respected, regardless of their reasons.

Do the Gods Speak English?

This chapter is about the language we use in ritual and magick, but first I would like to ask you: Do the gods speak English? If you’re a non­native English speaker, do the gods speak your mother tongue? Do you speak to them in that language regardless? If you speak multiple languages, which do you use in rituals and deity work? One? Many? Have you learned any languages specifically for ritual? Do you speak your deity’s mother tongue?

As pagans, we often work with gods from global pantheons, for example, Anubis from the Egyptian pantheon, Aphrodite from the Greek pantheon, Thor from the Norse pantheon, or in my case, the Cailleach from the Celtic pantheon. Yet, do we conduct rituals in Arabic? Or in Greek? Or Norwegian? Gaelic? Reader, while you personally might, I have never seen anyone do this ­ myself included. Unless you are already a native speaker, communicating with the gods in their language is rare. And although OBOD does encourage the use of Celtic and Gaelic words wherever possible (such as Awen, Eisteddfod, and Gwers), the gwers are delivered in English, with the spoken parts of rituals also written in English.

There are also the “dead” or “dying” languages, and old languages which have evolved into modern ones, like Cornish, for example. The Cornish deities may have experienced ritual in the Cornish language back in the day, but it is much less common now. There are still a small handful of native Cornish speakers, but I wonder how many rituals have used Cornish language in the last century… Can Cornish deities communicate even though we have largely lost the art of the Cornish language? Have they evolved with us and our languages?

If all deities do in fact understand and respond to the English language, excellent. English isn’t special. They likely understand all languages, or transcend them entirely. Which could mean that the actual words are perhaps less important than the magickal work, and the intent you’re bringing in to the space. If speaking in a particular language during ritual is important to you, that’s OK! Your magick is yours. It is unlikely that a Greek God knows, or learned, English but no other languages, or merely a few other languages. Do they learn the languages? Do they just innately know them? They probably know all the languages, whatever that might mean, otherwise they wouldn’t keep showing up in the rituals and altars they are called to all around the world.

On the other hand, if they don’t speak English, how do they know where they are being called to? Is there a magickal language barrier that the gods navigate by looking at our nonverbal cues and offerings? Is gift giving, incense burning, and mead sharing a universal language? If this is their sole language, why are we speaking our own? We don’t necessarily need to understand a spoken language to understand the meaning, feeling, and intent behind it. Listening to music has shown this to be true. There are almost zero English language major operas, or classical pieces. And yet, in Aus Liebe by Bach, despite being written in German, it is possible to feel the yearning, and the bittersweet love story within. When you look at the words and their translation, you get the full picture. How wonderful it is to be loved so much by Jesus that he would take responsibility for your sins, but how sad he must die for them. And even for the non­Christians, what bigger act of love than for someone to die so that you can live… I’ll leave that one to you. Perhaps a more obscure moment, but the song Abera Bakyarusheshe by Ugandan artist, Katokye. In the song, I have absolutely no idea what words are being said, but they feel personal, they feel reflective, and almost meditative. The call and response element to the song feels very much like he is telling a story, perhaps his story, perhaps the story of the land, in a way similar to modern druids and bards.

As pagans, there is a general consensus that the Gods understand all language. Perhaps they even transcend language. So I fail to see a reason why signed languages would be an exception, or why quiet practices would be null and void. I personally believe that the gods are always receptive to our efforts. They listen and wait patiently for someone to get their attention while they go about their godly business in their own realm. As a Deaf person, I can confirm that listening doesn’t just involve sound. I can’t hear very well, but I am an excellent listener. Listening and hearing are very different concepts. I cannot think of a reason why deity would only respond to spoken word, regardless of the language, but pay no attention to signed languages. Or why a bell wouldn’t be heard, but words in a language they don’t speak would be. Why a beautiful and expressive sign language wouldn’t get a message through, but simply raising your arms up to the sky would.

There are no right or wrong answers, just some things to think about when it comes to the idea that speaking is a mandatory part of ritual and magick.

Let’s learn a language

Ok, so not a whole language. If you follow a deity whose primary language is not the same as yours, this could be a fun exercise for you! Choose 10 spiritual words. Try not to be ultra­specific, think “crystal” more than “rutilated quartz”, which I couldn’t even spell in my own language, and had to check in a book. Pick your deity, and pick your language. Use the internet or a language dictionary to translate your words. Can you say them out loud? Can you write them down? Might you incorporate them into your next working? Completely up to you.

Regardless of the language we choose, the individual words we tend to use for deity are much different than the words we use with family, with friends, with colleagues, and with strangers. There’s an almost regal to it. For example, when I was younger, if I asked to borrow money from my father, it would usually go something like “DaAaAaAaAaAaddd??? Could I please borrow twenty quid for some shoes? Mine caught fire somehow”. Whereas, at the same age, if I were to ask a deity for abundance in order to replace my shoes, it would go something like “Oh blessed deity, I come before you with an offering in hopes that you can share your abundance with me”.