Folk Field Guide for Folk Practice is a zine (a homemade publication) devoted to the living heart of folk practice. My aim is not only to preserve stories, but to practice with them—to listen to and practice with our family, the land, and the magic in our own homes. In these field guides, you'll find the stories, the prayers, offerings, and practices that have shaped our own folk practice for generations.
May these stories nourish your imagination, connect you to the land and lineage they arise from, and remind us all that folk practice is not just a record of the past, but a practice still relevant for our lives and relationships today.
There is a path that doesn’t belong to any belief system, any special religion, or any one tradition. It's not an “ism” nor does it have an official name. It’s a path we can call folk practice, the practice of the people, the sacred threads that weave through ordinary life.
At its heart, folk practice is deeply rooted and shaped across generations by countless ordinary lives: bakers, farmers, tailors, fishers, lantern-makers, cooks, and builders. These weren’t people detached from their world. They lived in intimate conversation with it. They shaped it, and it shaped them. The practices that came from this intimacy weren’t rigid or static. They adapted and evolved alongside the communities that held them. They were shaped by countless influences, threads of old ways and new ideas spun together over time.
And one of the most vital truths about folk practice is this: it belongs to everyone. You can be Floridian, Vietnamese, Tongan, Greek, Scottish, or from anywhere else. Because folk isn't something outside or other that you have to be or become. You already are folk. It's who you are, and it's the people who surround you, and the people you come from. It is all of us. It requires no identity or label, it's simply you and your life however that manifests.
Folk practice belongs to everyone. It doesn’t ask for a specific belief. It doesn’t require allegiance to a particular god, religion, or dogma. You can be a Buddhist, a Christian, a Bonpo, or someone who simply feels the sacred threads of life. Folk practice is syncretic, drawing from many sources, shaped by time, place, and person. Its strength lies in its openness and its ability to evolve.
The old stories may tell of realms of spirits, of ancestors and unseen beings, but this is not some far-off place. It is closer than we imagine, just a subtle shift of perception away.
Importantly, this is not a path apart from life. It is life. In every era, across countless villages and families, it was woven seamlessly into the everyday. It was a technology of belonging and connection, a way to respond to life’s needs, a way to support, heal, and protect a community. The folk practitioner was shaped by their people and place. They weren’t set apart from the world. They worked within it, lived within it, and drew strength from belonging to the full catastrophe of life.
Folk practice teaches us that sacredness is not something you have to travel far to find. It’s right here. It’s how we speak to our neighbors. How we thank the plants that feed us. How we hold space for grief and joy, side by side.
In a time when the world feels increasingly disconnected, when so much of life is filtered through screens or systems that separate us from the source, there is deep medicine in turning toward the old ways; not to escape the present, but to meet it more fully.
In the end, folk practice reminds us of a profound truth. Spirituality is not about perfection, dogma, or rigid orthodoxy. It is about relationship. It is about respect. It is about responsiveness to the world around us. It reminds us that the sacred is always present, always available, because it lives within and around us every moment. Sometimes messy, but alive.
Folk Practice is an inheritance we can reclaim every time we open ourselves to the wonder of this life. In this way, folk practice is not a relic of the past, but a living, breathing path for now and for generations to come.
Folk Field Guide Issue 1: Ong Dia (Mr. Land)
Folk Field Guide Issue 2: The Blessing of Thần Tài
Folk Field Guide Issue 3: The Five Elemental Ladies
Folk Field Guide Issue 4: Mẹ Sanh Mẹ Độ
Folk Field Guide Issue 5: Táo Quân (The Kitchen God)
Folk Field Guide Issue 6: Offering Practice During a Hurricane
Folk Field Guide Issue 7: Cundi
Folk Field Guide Issue 8: Tara
Folk Field Guide Issue 9: Quan Am
Folk Field Guide Issue 10: Kurukulle
Folk Field Guide Issue 11: The Practice of the Khandro
Folk Field Guide Issue 12: Tsok Gatherings
Folk Field Guide Issue 13: The Earth Element
Folk Field Guide Issue 14: The Water Element
Folk Field Guide Issue 15: The Air Element
Folk Field Guide Issue 16: The Fire Element
Folk Field Guide Issue 17: The Space Element
Folk Field Guide Issue 18: La (The Soul)
Folk Field Guide Issue 19: Absorbing the Essence of Space
Folk Field Guide Issue 20: Absorbing the Essence of Fire
Folk Field Guide Issue 21: Absorbing the Essence of Air
Folk Field Guide Issue 22: Absorbing the Essence of Water
Folk Field Guide Issue 23: Absorbing the Essence of Earth
The practice offers a spiritual practice of making heartfelt offerings to the land‑spirit “Ông Thổ Địa (Mr. Land)”, as an act of gratitude and connection to ancestors, the earth, and the generosity of being rooted in place.
The practice invites us to open to the hidden flow of generosity that upholds our lives, recognize the countless unseen benefactors and conditions supporting us, and through a grounded meditation of gratitude transform that recognition into a “golden treasure tree” of kindness in ourselves and for others.
The practice introduces the five “Elemental Ladies” — Air, Fire, Earth, Space, and Water — as personified forces in Vietnamese folk belief, offering a meditation and ritual for renewing each of the five elements in body, mind and environment.
The practice invites you to connect with the “Mother of Protection” as a compassionate guardian presence, offering a ritual to draw upon her caring strength and cultivate a sense of safe rootedness and open‑hearted vigilance in your life.
The practice honours the Kitchen God (Ông Táo) as the guardian of the hearth and family life—inviting mindful cooking, reflected speech, and a year‑end ritual of offering and review to deepen connection, harmony, and responsibility in the home.
The practice invites you to perform a grounded and heartfelt offering when a hurricane (or large natural disruption) strikes — using body, speech, and mind to offer water, flowers, and food, reconnect with the five elements, recognize inner/outer imbalance, and generate merit for relief, resilience and clarity.
The practice outlines a ritual of embodying the five elemental khandros (Space, Air, Fire, Water, Earth) as a means to reconnect with one’s innate enlightened nature and align body, speech and mind with the underlying energies of each element.
The practice introduces a ritual of “soul retrieval” that invites you to tenderly reclaim the parts of your being lost to trauma, dis‑connection or overwhelm and reintegrate them into a sense of wholeness and presence.
The practice invites you to honour your familial and cultural lineage through creating a sacred space or altar, making offerings of incense, flowers, food and water, and maintaining an ongoing dialogue with your ancestors as a living presence in your home and practice.
The practice guides you to honour the Twelve Fairy Midwives — legendary helpers of birth and life‑passage in Vietnamese folk cosmology — by making offerings of water, flowers, incense and symbolic foods, thereby acknowledging the unseen web of guardianship that supports transitions and renewal.
A mala is a sacred tool, originating from a miraculous tree manifested by the Buddha's aspiration, used to count mantras and focus the mind on the dharma, transforming a simple string of beads into a symbolic, respected object that directs awareness away from worldly attachments toward spiritual practice and enlightenment.