I was raised without religion stuffed down my throat. My mother always told me that I would find the right path at the right time. Throughout my childhood, my mother kept all of her Catholic childhood relics on the living room bookshelf: her Missal, prayer books, Bible, and various books on Mary. I spent countless hours looking at the frightening images of the crucified Christ, and the loving Mother Mary. I disregarded all images of Christ, but I took Mary deep into my heart. Her image captured me, and I often ran away to my bedroom with the Marian prayer cards that had been stuck in my mother's Bible.

I felt at peace looking at Her image: Her kind face, Her loving arms and embrace. I felt truly loved when I was in Her presence, even if it was just a piece of paper. Ever since I was a small child I thought of Her as my own mother, as well as Mother to my mother, and Mother to my grandmother, and Mother to my great-grandmother. I never thought it to be odd, nor questioned how it could be that all the women in my family came from the same Heavenly Mother; it just simply was. And more than that, I could relate to Mary on personal levels: as a na�ve virgin child, I could see myself in Her; as a loving mother, I knew She heard me and held me as I told Her everything; as an elegant queen, I knew She felt pleased as I placed flowers in honour of Her. I knew deep within my core that when I left this earthly plane, it was to Mary that I would go; eternity for me would be in Her embrace.

I was ten years old when I discovered Paganism through my own genetic memory. It was 1993, and I watched as the wild Mississippi River ravished my island home and everything it came in contact with. It was while watching those ravenous waves during the 1993 Iowa floods that I knew nature was not a force to take lightly; it was something that deserved and pleaded for my respect and honour.

Throughout the rest of my childhood, and into my teens and early twenties, I wandered through life with an adoration for Mary (but was never Catholic) and for an appreciation for nature (but Paganism never felt right). I feared that I would never be really happy because what I believed was blasphemous: Mary as Goddess of Nature, Mother of us All.

I was twenty-five when I took a wrong turn in a book and found the word "Collyridianism." As I read the basic definition of the word, my heart was filled with splendor: I had finally found a word to go with my definition. I wasn't alone in what I felt and believed; and in fact, there was an entire religious path that had once been dedicated to it.

As I researched Collyridianism more and more, I kept coming up with less and less. I became weary and ready to fall back into my Dark Night of the Soul. Just as I was about to give up, I came across the classic Ralph Waldo Emerson quote: "Do not go where the path may lead; go instead where there is no path and leave a trail."

I have always believed that everything, no matter how big or small, happens for a reason. And I believe that my closeness with Mary is so that I can help resurrect the Collyridian faith. As Emerson said, I would have to go where there was no path and leave a trail; I would have to recreate a dead practice and open it up for others.

What follows is my Book of Light, the instruction manual for my path. While you are more than welcome to read through everything I have here and use it for your own practice, please remember that this is my path: what works for me may not work for you.