I’ve embraced a new way of thinking. Or rather a very old way of thinking. I’ve become Pagan and it’s quite possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I encourage you to become Pagan too. We Pagans simply have it made.
Being a Pagan has opened up a new world to me. Things look different from when I dreaded a vengeful uncaring god. Before, I feared being smote down for every carnal thought. If I wished my enemy ill, I waited for god’s retribution. That old ‘eye for an eye’ bullshit had me by the balls.
Well no more!
As a Pagan, I understand that nature is really in control. Bad things happen out of a series of events, not some deity waiting to get me. Wanting to see someone get theirs is no longer punishable. In fact, since I’m a product of nature, I can even facilitate it. It’s liberating to not live in fear of the wrath of god. It’s just forces of nature that I have to contend with.
Being a Pagan means that I can get in touch with my inner animal. I am free to behave a little inappropriately now and then if it brings me great joy. I can get a little dirty in every respect without guilt or confession. I can get in touch with my basic instincts and act accordingly. Now I know why dogs roll in shit…because they can.
Pagans can marvel at the universe in awe that has come to be with no divine hand. Or in the alternative, many divine hands. We can look at the stars and planets and wonder at the physical events that took place to put them there. The awesomeness of Niagara Falls, for instance, is a product of water and wind and erosion. A simple disruption in the equation and the falls would look totally different. Sand glass, quartz, frogs…they all happened in the most precise formula and a simple little change in the formula, something that is happening every day, changes these things. It’s exciting to know we have been in a constant state of flux for eons.
The Pagan calendar is based on seasons, not religious events. Pagans look to the seasonal changes, not an icon benchmark. Each change is cause for celebration. Fertility, growth, bounty are dormancy are the way the year is memorialized. Some of the celebrations involve nudity and sex. Those have to be my favorite. And I’m free to exercise these wonderful rituals. I can revel and drink and copulate to my heart’s content. In the name of Paganism! Thank you Mother Earth! I’m a damn Pagan!
If one of the conventional-religion types decides to mock me, I can always play the Pagan Card. “Eating meat on a Friday during Lent?” Scoffs the priest. “I can Sir; I’m a Pagan” I say as I munch down a double cheeseburger. “Breaking one of the Ten Commandments?” The stern preacher scolds. “But Reverend, I’m a Pagan. Commandments-Schammandments!” I laugh as I tap dance all over the stone tablets. “Why are you naked in this field ma’am?” The police officer asks as he cuffs me. “Because I’m Pagan Officer. Handcuffs…I didn’t know you cared.” So that one might not work as well, but you get the general gist. Being Pagan is my ticket to a whole hell of a lot of fun.
Oh, I could go on and on about all the benefits of Paganism, but I want to keep at least some of the fun secret. But rest assured that while your humbling yourself at an alter, I’ll be sitting on a beach chair with a nice umbrella drink and a hot cabana boy ready for the next Spring Equinox!