If somebody asks me what my religion is, today, I am going to answer that “I am a guest of the gods. I am a host to the gods.”
The reality is that I make a lousy guest and I make a probably lousier host. But I’ve never nor received a single louse in any of these endeavors, so, I obviously mean “lousy” figuratively here.
But honestly, this is what I wake up for: to be a grateful guest in the house of the gods and to turn around and welcome Them wholly and fully into my home and heart, and do my best to reciprocate. Cool drink for those running hot, and a hot drink for those running cool — or like for like, if that’s what They’d like — and a meal designed to be received well, in whatever way They’d like.
“Offerings” and “piety” are another set of terms related to “welcoming the gods and spirits into your life, your home”, which is to say in a strange sort of way, welcoming Them into Their own home, Their own life: for what in this world is ours alone? Being hospitable, then, is not some “extra deep devotion” wherein only truly enlightened or mystically dedicated wizards can partake, but rather, the fundamentally central and mandatory bare minimum thing that can be done in our lives for those who gave us our lives. And each day anew that we steal breath from this world, our lives are returned to us, like a lease extended, even when we miss some payments from time to time.