The Rhythm of Reverence: Writing as a Spiritual Practice

Alexandra Höglund
Jul 24
2 min read

By the Temple of Infinite Abundance

“To write is to remember. To remember is to return to the sacred.”

— Temple teaching

There is a rhythm that lives beneath the surface of life.

Sometimes we hear it in silence.

Sometimes it speaks through poetry.

And sometimes, it arrives on the page—word by word—as a path back to the divine.

At the Temple of Infinite Abundance, we believe writing is not merely a mental act. It is a ritual, a communion, a portal. When we write with intention, the page becomes an altar. A sacred mirror. A space where the soul is both the question and the answer.

Whether through poetry, journaling, or stream-of-consciousness reflection, writing can help us soften into truth, anchor in clarity, and remember what’s eternal.

Why Writing Is Spiritual

Most of our days are filled with external input—scrolling, speaking, reacting. Writing is the opposite. It’s an inward pull. A descent into stillness.

When we write from the heart, we shift from performing to communing.

We touch our knowing without needing to explain it.

We listen more than we declare.

This is why spiritual writing is less about grammar and more about presence. Less about being profound, more about being real.

In the quiet of the page, we hear the voice of the soul.

3 Sacred Writing Practices to Try

These are three of our favorite writing rituals—offered not as prescriptions, but invitations. Try them slowly, tenderly. Let them become a rhythm, not a task.

1. The Morning Transmission

“What is ready to be heard today?”

Each morning, light a candle and write without agenda for 10–15 minutes. No editing. No overthinking. Let something deeper speak through you. Some days it may sound poetic. Other days it may be messy and unfinished. All of it is holy.

Prompt:“If my higher self were writing this, what would she say?”

2. The Beauty List

“Notice what you love. Then let it shape you.”

Spirituality lives in what we pay attention to. This practice is simple: at the end of each day, write down 5 things that felt beautiful. A moment. A color. A laugh. A scent.

This re-trains the nervous system to attune to beauty—not just pain.

Prompt:“What made my spirit soften today?”

3. The Shadow Letter

“Healing begins when honesty arrives.”

When you’re in pain, confusion, or fear—write a letter you’ll never send. Address it to your inner child. To the divine. To the person you’re struggling with. Or to a part of yourself you’re ready to meet.

Let the rawness come. Don’t judge what arises. This is sacred compost.

Prompt:“What is ready to be spoken, finally?”