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Lessons from Living Faiths

  • Writer: Nonie Douglas
    Nonie Douglas
  • Jul 26, 2025
  • 3 min read

Pipe smoke is used in our Border traditions as an incense for contemplation and communion with spirits and ancestors.
Pipe smoke is used in our Border traditions as an incense for contemplation and communion with spirits and ancestors.

We often use the term 'living faiths' in our workshops to describe the diverse nature of esoteric systems in the British Isles that have existed before living memory.


These practices come from long ago and have endured the test of time, blending the old and the new in endless varieties of intangible culture and regional manifestations. To the outsider, they are invisible but there is evidence of their existence hidden in plain sight. They are referred to in quiet ways with hints and nods, because when directly spoken about the words become trite and misused.


Stewards of these traditions know the sense of home it brings them, not diminished by the passage of time or distance. Those who still yearn to discover these paths will know the ache caused by its absence.



When I entered a Scottish family-based tradition over three decades ago, there were nuances I did not understand. While some comprehension could be gained by study, there was significantly more that could only be absorbed by osmosis - living in a Scottish household, quality time with elders, life-altering experiences in rural villages, and embracing ritual and custom that I would later teach to my own children. All these things helped me to communicate with ancestors and dispel deep-seated misconceptions.


I also learned to appreciate the presence of living traditions passed through generations of my own family, including practices and knowledge preserved by the remoteness of immigration and displacement which can become lost in their place of origin. This change of perception about my forebears was spiritually liberating.


I learned the survival of living faiths in Britain is complex and multifaceted, encompassing a diverse array of beliefs and practices. Despite history’s best efforts to eradicate them, these faiths persist silently alongside other religions, often assuming a thin veneer of Christianity or synthesizing ideals into their own henotheist practice.


These practices have deep ethnic roots specific to their region, shaped by topography, heritage, language and legacy. Practices originating by the seaside are vastly different to those in remote mountains or agrarian regions. Town-based traditions evolve differently from small villages and farms. Borrowed words and stories are recast into specific meanings.


Even within localities there is broad variation; from highly organized secret societies to rustic guilds and small family groups safeguarding treasured fragments. While some teachings are practice-based, others are heavy with philosophy. Rituals can be simple gestures, complex rites, or revelries on par with the old mystery schools. Folk traditions sit comfortably beside deep occult themes. Systems are revived using contemporary information or folded into other magical organizations. Such differences are very dear to their practitioners, tying them to a history shrouded in the mists of an otherworld which they stand astride.


This experience of esoteric tradition in Britain is quite different from the neat, homogenized package the age of misinformation delivers – one which dismisses the possibility of surviving regional practices and derides the credibility of anyone who claims otherwise, offering in its place revisionist academic theory, which looks for commonalities across nations and elevates certain literary themes and historic events framed in a linear progression.


Such narratives cannot sufficiently embrace the intricacies of pluralist ancestral practices and present a dual edge for living faith across the globe. On the one hand misinformation serves as a reliable smokescreen to dissuade idle curiosity and conceal those things which should remain hidden from view, but over generations, it can cultivate an impenetrable barrier to future custodians of tradition from finding their way home.

Several years ago Rob and I moved to the Appalachian Mountains to learn about practices that might have been lost in our Scottish homeland. These Pangean formations parallel the Cailleach’s abode, crafted by her ancient hands, and are home to a hearty stock of Border descendants. The experience has been rewarding, and in the process, we have had the privilege of sharing and igniting the kernel of old faith that continues to survive here, just as it does in Britain.


To those seekers who feel called to learn more about esoteric living traditions, we encourage you to be patient and respectful. Let your soul guide you and know that discretion is important, even if you do not understand why. Gently put aside what you know, and let yourself be an empty vessel with a clean slate and open heart, ready to learn.



 

 

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© ArcaneBorders.com 2019-2026. A website by Rob & Nonie Douglas, authors of Unquiet Voices - the Magical Art of Laying Ghosts

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