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Sitting comfortably in my city’s café, watching the people around me, I can’t help but ask myself: Is the image of "the one true love" nothing more than well-functioning, patriarchal propaganda? You observe couples, overhear snippets of conversation about dating-app disappointments, and feel this subtle yet constant pressure hanging over our society: the assumption that life is only completed through a partner. That finding that one soulmate is the ultimate destination of our

A plea for a pragmatic urban mysticism—between deep grief, the fascination of nomadism, and the art of connecting spaces instead of dividing them. Picture taken by photographer Sani Maikatanga The past few weeks have been turbulent—even for an urban witch like me. There was the painful loss of a family member. This unique period of transition between two jobs, self-employment, and traveling. And then yesterday, sitting together with my close friend in Zurich at a talk on trav

Image by gpointstudio on Magnific “My darling girl, when are you going to realize that being normal is not necessarily a virtue? It rather denotes a lack of courage.” ~ Aunt Frances, Practical Magic With Practical Magic 2 filling the theater screens, I feel drawn to turn toward a topic held very close to my heart. To set the stage, I share this quote from Alice Hoffman’s novel and its iconic film adaptation—words that have quietly walked beside me for many years. Having trave

Holding space—a phrase often heard in the context of coaching, counseling, or mentoring. It sounds so noble, almost poetic: “I am holding space for you.” In modern spirituality and the counseling world, this phrase has developed into a kind of halo. We like to imagine ourselves as the steadfast rock in the storm—as the person who protects, carries, lights a candle, and offers the saving light at just the right moment. But if you stand at the edge long enough, holding space fo

We have already talked about the pagan Wheel of the Year festival Lughnasadh several times. A festival with many facets, which for me includes both a pause for gratitude and the awareness that everything we reap also carries a price and not infrequently demands a sacrifice. Be it the sacrifice of time, money or energy. But when we look at the term "harvest" today, we have to face an uncomfortable truth: we have unlearned how to recognize when a field has borne enough. We live

My loves, as the late summer light takes on a deeper, golden hue, as the city smells of warm asphalt and dense summer days, and the late afternoon air grows heavy with fulfillment, we step across an invisible threshold on the Wheel of the Year: It is time to welcome Lughnasadh—the first harvest festival of the year. Yes, you read that right: the first of three, because we do love to celebrate! ;) Normally, I prefer listening to the exact rhythm of the sun and moon for my seas

What is she doing?" you might ask. Summer has just begun, and here I am, talking about ancestors—isn't that more of a topic for the darker half of the year? On social media, that certainly seems to be the consensus. And yes, traditionally, as we move into the waning year and our focus naturally turns inward, the atmosphere feels ripe for ancestral connection. But to relegate this practice solely to the autumn months feels like a missed opportunity. To honor those who came bef

For as long as I can remember, a balanced interplay of modern medicine and natural healing has been deeply rooted in my understanding of health. At the same time, plants have always held a completely natural place in my magical practice. I love working with these green beings. In a living, animistic practice—some might call it "shamanic" in modern parlance, though I approach that term with caution due to its colonial history—we view plants as beings with their own consciousne

"Nicole, what happens if your faith and your nature-based spirituality are completely wrong?" It’s a question I’m asked from time to time—and the answer is simple: Then that is perfectly fine. And that is exactly the point: My faith and my worldview are constantly evolving. An earth-centered spirituality, like the pagan path I live, does not claim to be the only true way. Our gods and forces do not pretend to be all-powerful or all-knowing. They do not demand blind obedience

Introduction: The Modern Myth Summer has finally arrived in Switzerland. Last night, I was sitting on a friend’s balcony; the air was still warm as the twilight deepened. Over a cozy cup of tea, our conversation drifted through a dozen different topics until it naturally settled on the stars becoming visible in the darkening night sky. We began talking about constellations, ancient deities, and traditions—tracing the lines back to the ways humanity has always searched for mea

A Critical Examination of Art History from a Feminist-Spiritual Perspective. For centuries, the Muse has been the art world’s favorite ghost. She is the ethereal woman in the silk slip, the tragic beauty in the poem, or the "supportive partner" in the shadows of the studio. In the traditional narrative—born of a heavy male gaze—the Muse is a crutch. She is silent, useful, and decorative, existing only to provide the spark that lights another person's fire. She is the battery;

Let’s be honest: when most people hear the word "Pagan," they think of either a dusty museum exhibit or someone dancing around a bonfire with a plastic flower crown. And while both of those examples can be true, interesting, and fun, being a modern practitioner is less about the aesthetic and more about a deeply felt, grounded way of walking through the world. During the past months, we have already had a closer look at modern pagan life—especially one lived in urban surround

As the sun sets over the Limmat and the industrial silhouettes of Zürich begin to soften into twilight, something ancient stirs beneath the asphalt. This year, the shift from April to May is not merely a change on the calendar; it is a celestial convergence. Tonight, Friday, May 1st, 2026, the Full Flower Moon rises exactly as we cross the threshold of Beltane. For me, this date carries a weight that is both heavy and light. Today was my last day at my old job. As I closed t

We are taught from a young age that being "judgmental" is a fundamental character flaw. We strive to be open, empathetic, and understanding—especially those of us drawn to the healing arts or the pursuit of a "conscious" life. I have spent years teaching exactly this. As a Mindfulness Teacher (MBSR), my core message is often: Perceive without judgment. I teach the beauty of the "Beginner’s Mind," the grace of moving through the world with more curiosity and less condemnation.

In our modern, productivity-obsessed world, we are often told to "be authentic" —to strip away the masks and find the "true" self underneath. It’s a view I absolutely agree with, yet sometimes struggle with at the same time. As a neurodivergent person, I automatically do a lot of masking in certain situations. Why? Because sometimes it is required to fit in—at work, among a group of peers, or in social settings where the "unwritten rules" feel rigid. In those moments, masking