In Conversation with Hilary Smith
7 Questions on Writing About the Divine Feminine and Spirituality
Hello beloved reader,
I first encountered Hilary Smith’s engaging prose when I subscribed to the newsletter from Hierophant Publishing. Hilary is their senior editor and she writes a periodical newsletter with stories about her work and about where she lives off grid in Hawaii. Each time I see one of her newsletters in my in-box I feel a heart-lift in joyful anticipation of reading her writing. I look forward to the possibility that perhaps one day Hilary may begin writing a Substack.
Hilary has written the following three books in addition to a variety of ghost writing projects:
What Hilary says below in response to the first question makes me think of how Interfaith also honors the fact that all of the world’s faith traditions point towards the same spiritual principles, in different ways, and often from different perspectives too. The (perhaps) controversial opinion I hold is that the dogma of these faith traditions can get in the way of the spiritual truths at the core of our world’s religions.
Hilary’s engaging writing also makes me think of how Eckhart Tolle discusses the wisdom required to hold a paradox. How it’s the nature of the human experience to often be resistant to different opinions and ideas, but how we can lessen suffering—both our own and others’—when we cultivate the wisdom needed to hold a paradox.
And without further ado, please enjoy Hilary’s thoughtful responses.
The 7 Questions:
1) Why are you drawn to writing about spirituality and/or the Divine Feminine?
I’ve always been very concerned with ethics, and preoccupied with questions about how to live a good life. Spiritual traditions from around the world attempt to answer these questions in such delightful ways—through art, poetry, music, and sets of rules and principles which are fun to read and practice.
As a spirituality editor and ghostwriter, I love the fact that I can be working on a book with a Peruvian shaman, and another one with an American meditation teacher, and they’re often saying exactly the same thing in different words. Sometimes, I’ll find myself telling the author, “This shaman I’m working with just told me a really similar story, but it features a jaguar!” This kind of cross-pollination is a huge source of joy.
I think we’re at a really exciting moment right now, because spirituality writers have access to so much high-quality science—for example, research papers about what happens in the brain when we chant kirtan, meditate, dance, or fast. In 2025, we are better equipped than ever to give readers trustworthy, data-driven, scientifically validated information about how to improve their lives, and I love being part of that process.
2) How does writing about spirituality affect you, in your work and/or personal life?
Many of the books I edit contain exercises such as guided meditations, rituals, and daily practices. I make a point of trying them all—partly out of due diligence, but also out of curiosity! From one book to the next, I’ll find myself making offerings to my favorite trees, writing down a list of limiting beliefs I’d like to challenge, or visualizing my whole body covered in blooming flowers. Sometimes, I’ll enjoy a practice so much it will become part of my daily routine for years to come.
Other times, I have to confess that my work causes me to feel some despair: are all these spiritual books doing enough to reduce the suffering in the world? As spiritual writers, are we asking too little of our readers, or unwittingly nudging them to focus too much on minor fluctuations in their own happiness and comfort? Are we doing enough for those who are impoverished and oppressed, or sealing ourselves in a feel-good echo chamber?
These are the questions that keep me up at night. But if you have to be kept up at night by questions, those are pretty good ones.
3) What is an experience you have had that is perhaps the most mystical and unexplainable in the rational/material realm?
Falling in love.
I know there have been piles of books and papers published about how love is a chemical reaction that takes place in response to subtle cues about fertility, status, and fitness—and yet I cannot quite bring myself to believe there is nothing magical in it.
The first time I fell in love, at the ripe old age of fifteen, I felt the entire world was imbued with possibility and significance. I love the fact that this intoxicating state is available to everyone, regardless of class, race, or gender (while acknowledging the fact that fulfilling one’s love can absolutely be complicated or even prevented by these things, depending on the time and culture in which you live.) Nature designed us to feel the bliss of love, and the fact that this can be explained by science doesn’t make it any less mystical to me.
4) What is the first memory you have that there was something else besides the material realm?
In high school, I used to escape to a patch of forest near my home and wander around by myself, reveling in surprise encounters with garter snakes, fireflies, and deer. This wasn’t a pristine wilderness or nature preserve, just a few acres of trees and fields bordered by train tracks and the town dump—still, an astonishing amount of life and beauty managed to thrive there.
I remember one evening at sunset, I came across a pond where red-winged blackbirds were trilling in the cattails, and felt a sense of the numinous which stood in such contrast to the sterile suburb where I grew up. I spontaneously clapped my hands, spun in a circle, and bowed—a ritual I’d repeat for years, through many encounters with nature.
I’m not sure this counts as falling outside the material realm, however. Cattails, ponds, and birds are material and numinous, and I don’t see those two things as being mutually exclusive.
5) What do you hope for, for your writing?
The social activist Dorothy Day wrote, “We need always to be thinking and writing about poverty, for if we are not among its victims its reality fades from us.” You can substitute the word “poverty” for just about any form of suffering or injustice from which you, personally, happen to be exempt: mental illness, addiction, war, you name it. With that in mind, I hope that my writing will contribute to a more just and compassionate world—and that is also my wish for every book I edit and ghostwrite.
One thing I love about writing and editing self-help and spirituality books is that it forces me to think about topics like death, grief, addiction, and trauma on a daily basis. That might sound grim, but it really isn’t, because my job is to find the ray of light running through those experiences, and share it with other people. I could do this job for the rest of my life.
6) Who is a writer or other creative artist who makes you feel inspired, helps you to remember we’re spiritual beings having a human experience, and perhaps makes you cherish Mother Earth just a little bit more?
I just brought up Dorothy Day, so maybe I’ll offer a little more about her. For those who don’t know, she was a journalist, spiritual author, and political radical who lived from 1897-1980, and who established the first of many “houses of hospitality” during the Great Depression, which provided beds, clothing, and hot meals to people who were out of work, mentally ill, or otherwise excluded from society. She was also arrested multiple times for nonviolent protests and acts of civil disobedience on behalf of the poor and working class.
I’m all about spiritual writers putting their money where their mouth is, especially when it means giving up comforts and privileges that aren’t easy to relinquish. It doesn’t matter if you’re Catholic, Buddhist, pagan, pantheist, or anything else—are you walking your talk? Are you making real sacrifices for the health of other people, animals, and the planet?
Another author I’m really excited about right now is Ingrid Robeyns, whose book Limitarianism: The Case Against Extreme Wealth makes a case for why having too much money is bad for the planet and for democracy, among other things. I’m pretty sure Robeyns, an economist, doesn’t consider herself a “spiritual writer,” and yet in my mind there are few things more spiritual—or for that matter, better for the planet—than limiting one’s wealth and living humbly so that other beings can thrive.
7) What are the words of wisdom and/or spiritual principle(s) that you come back to time and time again that give you solace and uplift your heart?
A phrase I return to frequently is “die before you die”—which has been attributed to various people, although I first encountered it in a translation of Rumi.
So often, we refrain from acts of generosity or moral courage because we’re worried about the future. We think, “If I give this much, I might not have enough later,” or “If I speak up about this topic, I might lose some of my followers.” This anxiety keeps us focused on our own comfort and security above all else.
However, if you’re already “dead,” you can take big leaps, or, as Rumi would say, “Destroy your reputation. Be notorious.”
When I find myself holding back from doing or saying what I know to be the right thing, I remind myself that I’m “dead,” and that future considerations should therefore take a backseat to following my moral compass. Far from throwing my life into chaos, this approach has taught me just how strong, creative, and adaptable I can be, while living my values to the best of my abilities.
BIO:
Hilary T. Smith is the Senior Editor at Hierophant Publishing. She teaches a twice-yearly workshop on self-help and spirituality writing and serves as a self-help and spirituality ghostwriter and book coach.
Please also note: this series of interviews will live under the tab labeled “Alchemical Conversations” on this Substack, with the intention that the space will become a kind of resource of writers collaborating in reclaiming the Divine Feminine. Perhaps each string of words each of us writes is a thread in a vast, intricate, and beautiful tapestry we are collectively weaving—each row of this evolving fabric moving us toward an evolution of consciousness, a deeper awareness of the spiritual dimensions of our ecological crisis, and the healing needed to restore a harmonic balance with Mother Earth.
Next week, we also get to enjoy
’s responses to these 7 questions.
Hilary’s response to question two was wonderful — it would be some awesome to be able try out all those different practices. And I also appreciate how she acknowledged the nuance of that experience in the sense of the questions it sometimes leaves her with. :)
Great interview! I especially appreciate the reminder to not let ourselves and our readers get lost in our own comfort and needs. We all need to balance the inward work with a huge dose of outward work, especially now. And the Rumi quote about destroying your own reputation and being notorious really resounds for me too, in part because I am writing a book about practicing our terraphlia that includes spiritual exercises and practices. Thank you Camilla and thank you, Hilary!