pantheist? non-theist? atheist?

"But as I continue developing my spiritual practice, the feelings it evokes reminds me that I am engaging in this ritual, in this reverence, for the very reason that I am not entirely an atheist. For me, I feel the Cosmos to be divine. I feel a divinity in its mystery, its vastness, its connectedness, in the very fact of its being. But I have yet to define for myself what this concept of the divine really means for me – and if the reverence and connectedness I feel can be called theism of any kind." Áine W., The Spinning of the Wheel

For such a long time I've identified with the term pantheism.  If you don't know, pantheism is the idea that the Divine is in everything, everything is Divine.  God or Deity or Whomever can be found in rocks, trees, stars, plastics, buildings, shoes.  Everything.  So I always said I was a pantheist.  Or I thought it, at the very least.  God, for me, was never personal, which is a large part of why I didn't continue with Christopaganism, or whatever I may have been calling it at the start of this blog.  The Christian god is supposed to be personal. And even in Paganism, with polytheism abound, choosing pantheons or choosing fitting gods from one culture or another always seemed like a large part of celebrating the Divine.  Gods have personalities; it makes them personable.  

But I never felt that.  Praying to Gaia felt no different than praying to Cernunnos. So when I stumbled across this term, pantheism, I ran with it.  It was awesome.  I felt... comfortable with the Divine, although I think the word comfortable is wrong here.  It felt sensible to me, at any rate.

As the years went by and I stepped away from the Pagan path (not to any other particular path except maybe secularism), I began losing pantheism.  It became muddied in my mind.  I would laughingly joke that I was an atheist pagan because god, for me, was all and nothing at the same time.  Could I really claim to be a pagan if my view of god was so broad that I lost any sense of the divine?  

I always hated trying to define my beliefs, because it always came down to, "Well, I'm a Pagan... kinda.  Maybe I'm an atheist... but not really.  It's complicated."  And it is complicated. Like Áine, in the quote above, I am still hammering out my definition of what god is and means to me.  It's something I'll probably still be hammering away at when I am on my deathbed, if I am still lucid.  But I like what Áine says, that the divinity of existence is in its vastness and (inter)connectedness.  

So. Pantheist? Non-theist? Atheist?

I'm a Pagan, and I view god through pantheist eyes.  God is the energy that moves the universe and moves through the universe.  God is impersonal, despite the fact that I sometimes give it a face and a name for my own comfort.  I feel the Divine whether I am lighting incense and saying a prayer, cleaning a stream, or hugging a tree, because the Divine is in all there is.  The Wiccan Goddess saying "all acts of love and pleasure are my rituals" describes my view of god, because the energy moving through the universe is love and acts of love bring us closer to experiencing the Divine.

living with purpose

First off, happy Solstice! As usual, I've (obviously) failed to manage a holiday post. Luckily, I can keep trying. Camden and I didn't do much to "celebrate," but we did enjoy the summer, although it was fairly cool. He and I talked about the Oak and Holly Kings fighting, and the Holly King winning to lead our march toward Yule (where they'll fight again, with the Oak King as victor). We went to a local nature center to stare at some honey bees (a small inside hive (with a pipe leading outside) made of plexiglass so you can see the bees doing bee things. We also ogled a bull snake that was apparently not hungry, since it wasn't munching on the (live) mouse in its tank. Then we came home and grilled chicken for dinner. All in all, a fun day.

And on to the topic of the hour:

I've known about Transcendentalism since high school or junior high. But I only knew about it in the general sort of way. Last fall, in my AmeriLit class, I actually read the Transcendentalist authors; Whitman, Thoreau, Emerson. And I fell in love. Then, earlier this year, I was introduced to the term simple living, in reference to modern life, as opposed to "back in the day" simplicity. I think that if every one would strive to live simply, the world would be a better place. Less waste, more community. Less stress, more time. Less hate, more love. As a world-wide community (Western/modernized world, anyway), we have a consumerist and materialistic ethic. We want what we want (or what they want us to want), and we want it now. And to help us get this stuff we have to work long hours at jobs we may or may not enjoy. We want our children to want stuff too, so we help them "get ahead" by over-scheduling them.

That's not something I want from my life. I don't want the hectic schedule of work, soccer practice, music lessons, dinner at McDonald's, TV, bed, rinse and repeat. I want my life to be my own. I want my life to belong to me and my family, not to the world at large. A book that I am reading suggested making a purpose statement for one's family. Because part of living simply is living with purpose. And it's hard to live with a purpose that hasn't been defined. My purpose statement? (Rather: my family's purpose statement.)

Enjoy Life; Love Others.

That is the shortened version. Both are basic yet vital to my spiritual and religious beliefs. The (only slightly) lengthier version is:

Enjoy life by
-making our home a place of creativity, love and laughter
-living within our means
-being environmentally conscious
Love others by
-loving (family) unconditionally
-participating in community service
-having faith in god, nature, others, and one's self

I am sure that at some point this will change. Not greatly, maybe just a tweak here or there. But for now, it is enough.

Simple Living

For the last several years, I've been interested in the "Green Revolution," the idea of homesteading (and more recently, urban homesteading), and leading a simple life. I always assumed that the "simple life" required living the way my grandparents did: hard work, little money, and few possessions.

To an extent, I suppose, I was right, but living simply isn't necessarily reverting back to the stone age (haha). I picked up a book at the library last week called The Simple Living Guide by Janet Luhrs. This book told me very little that I didn't already know, but it was good because it put many of my thoughts and philosophies into words. Living simply is less about going back to the good ol' days and more about living deliberately and fully. The movement... well, I don't know that it is a movement, per se. The idea behind simple living stems from Transcendentalist thought. And I am a huge fan of the Transcendentalists (Whitman, Thoreau, Emerson, usw).

It's about living life one day at a time, one moment at a time. It's about being fully present and focused (ie, limited multitasking). It's about knowing the consequences of actions (if I buy this car, I'm going to have to work X number of years to be able to pay it off and spend that much less time with my family, etc). And while it's not about living an austere lifestyle (unless that's your thing, of course) it is about paring down to mostly just essentials. It's peaceful living, realised both within and outside of oneself.

Anyway, if a "simple life" is something that is attractive to you, I definitely suggest this book. It's filled with wisdom, excellent quotes, and nifty stories about real people who live within their philosophies. Also, it gives some good ideas on how to get started backing away from the hectic life of the typical American and into a simpler life.

Plants

Last spring I wrote a lot about starting a garden. And then I didn't do it. The garden plots are half way across town and are almost not worth the effort. If my landlord would let me plant a garden right there in the yard, you can bet I would be all over that. But I don't think he would appreciate me digging up all his grass and whatnot. Plus, there are tons of rabbits living by my house.

The other day I was talking to a friend about the garden plots and she thought it was a great idea. So we're going to plant a garden (for realsies this time). Even if she decides to back out or whatever, I think I will still go for it. Because it may be half way across town. It may use more gas to get from my apartment to the garden than it does to get from my apartment to the grocery store. But there's something fulfilling about growing one's own food.

My family had a garden almost every year as I was growing up. I've been out of my parents' house for almost four years now, but when I go to visit in the summer, the first thing I look for when I get there is to see how the garden looks (and if there are any zucchini ready to pick!). It is one of the things I miss most about living at my parents' home. Planting, harvesting, enjoying the vegetables. One of the reasons I look forward to owning my own home (and land) someday is that I'll be able to have a garden. (Well, several gardens: vegetable, herb, flower, etc.)

As I sit here, pondering gardens... I wonder about my predilection for wooded areas. Maybe it comes not from the intrinsic naturalness of the place, but instead because I am surrounded by the cycle of plant life-seedlings bursting forth, growing and thriving plants, and those that are returning to the earth to provide nourishment to the next generation. Odd, that that should just now occur to me. Do plants have spirits? Can an oak tree spirit be a guide? Witches (and non-witches) are guided by wolves and panthers and turtles and mice and dragons all the time. Can the spirits of plants help guide us through life as well?

Thoughts to ponder on this cold winter's night (one of the last, supposed to be 57 next week!).

Transcendentalism

I have been very absent. And I have to say: I really miss this blog. Good news, though: the end is in sight! I have three weeks of class left (+1 week of finals) then it is Winter break. Huzzah! I'm hoping that the next few semesters, while busy, will be NOTHING like this semester. In fact, I've kind of insured this, by adding an extra semester to my schedule before I graduate with my BA. (Which, in turn, adds an entire year to my whole schooling schedule.) But honestly, I CANNOT go through another semester like I've just had.

Anyway, I've had a few high points. In the last few weeks, my American Lit class has been reading Emerson and Whitman. And really, all I can say is: LOVE! There are hearts drawn throughout the pages of these writings (Emerson's Self Reliance And Whitman's "Song of Myself"). Reading these, it was impossible NOT to see echoes of my own philosophies, and I've connected to these writings in a way that I rarely experience. (Good news: my convo buddies in the class also connect with the writings, and we had EXCELLENT discussions about them. And the professor noticed and basically said we were awesome. :D)

If you haven't read Emerson or Whitman or Thoreau, I highly suggest it. Don't believe me on the awesomeness level? A few of my favourite quotes from Whitman:

The smallest sprout shows there is really no death,
And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it,
And ceas'd the moment life appear'd.

All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,
And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.

I exist as I am, that is enough

Divine am I inside and out, and I make holy whatever I touch or am touch'd from

Why should I wish to see God better than this day?
I see something of God each hour of the twenty-four, and each moment then,
In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face in the glass



--heart--

(Photo not mine)