One of the things that brought me to modern druidry is the realization that divinity resides within me (I am, so to speak, my own god) but that it’s not exclusive to me. We are all divine, but so are trees, squirrels and my very demanding pet kitties. That’s the polar opposite of the western idea that we both reject that teaches that god is up there (wherever “up there” is) and the lucky stiffs that we are, we get to participate in that divinity by the divine grace of a loving god. The problem is, to my thinking, upside down an backwards. Divinity resides in nature to which we, like the trees, squirrels and my annoying cats, an intimate part. Thus whatever gods or goddesses we imagine our there are actually personified, collective projections of the divinity that resides within.
My personal altar is set up to honor Brigid in all her mythological nuances. She was a goddess of the Tuatha Dé Danann. She was a daughter of the chief of the gods, The Dagda. She’s the goddess of my hearth, of healers, childbirth, inspiration. So powerful was she in the ancient world, and her worship so entrenched in the lives of her followers that the early Christian couldn’t simply erase from the minds and hearts of the people as they most typically did. Instead, they christianized her and invented Saint Brigid.
Even though intellectually I realize that what I’m honoring is the divinity that resides within me, it’s much more emotionally satisfying to honor Brigid as is she’s a goddess that resides out there. I strongly believe in an enchanted world because it makes no sense and it’s to scary not to.