I Pray for the Victims of War

I was in the kitchen using all the might I could muster to scrub a counter that didn't need cleaning. I had to do something physical while I waited for the fury and the disappointment to dissipate. I was so mad at my dad.

My dad and I never argue, but a news report about the Fort Hood incident had us at each other's throats. I had been serving him dinner when a reporter on TV said that Maj. Nidal Malik Hasan, the Fort Hood shooter, was no longer intubated. My dad made an obscene noise, shook his head, and said: "God is very just, I'm sure He won't let that murderer get out of that bed."

I didn't like the remark. "That's a horrible thing to say papi, you don't even know why the man did what he did."

My dad gave me a look filled with indignation. "Who cares why. He is obviously a crazy religious fanatic and we'll be better off if he is dies."

"How do you know he is a 'religious fanatic'? He probably had a nervous breakdown. Who knows what was going through that poor man's mind at the moment he pulled the trigger..."

My dad didn't let me finish. "I like that you always try to find good in everything and everyone, but there is no goodness in this. Anyone who gets up and shoot a whole bunch of innocent people is obviously evil."

"I'm not trying to justify the man papi, all I'm saying is that we can't be so quick to judge. You weren't at Walter Reed for years, trying to get into the brains of the boys who had lost half their minds in the war. You don't know what it feels like to stand in front of a 19-year-old kid who is missing his legs and one eye, trying to find a way to tell him that the nightmares might never go away. That does things to people...!"

"But... that's what he was trained for chiquita (Spanish for little one)." My dad didn't sound so sure anymore.

"One is trained to handle situations as they are happening; to adapt and overcome in order to get the job done, but at the end of it all, the memories... the nightmares... they stay. One has to deal with them. Alone. Some people are strong--or lucky--and survive. Others lose their heads trying to stay normal, but end up doing unspeakable things." I looked away to keep my dad from seeing the tears that were staring to form in my eyes. I scrubbed and scrubbed that counter, trying to erase stains that weren't there.

My dad didn't say anything else. He just got up and left. I looked at the table and felt bad because he didn't finish his dinner.

I went to my room, laid on my bed and let the tears flow freely. Soon a very unsettling thought came to mind: Am I defending a man who killed 13 people! I glanced at the statue of a kid wearing military uniform and holding a Dominican flag. It was a present from the mother of a blind Soldier who I helped while I worked as a military case manager between the National Naval Medical Center and Walter Reed Army Medical Center. The blind Soldier was not a pleasant man; he was arrogant and ill spoken, but he was on of us, so I helped anyway. Plus, I always told myself that I would be mad at the world too, if I had been shot in the head and lost my eyesight as a result.

One day the Soldier was particularly rude to me. He called me every name in the book and a few that weren't. I waited for him to spit out all his venom, then went to my office to think of the best way to inform him that his behavior was unacceptable.

His mother caught up to me a few minutes later. "I have something for you."

"Oh..." I was kind of lost for words. "Thanks ma'am, but you didn't have to."

She extended the little statue. "Please take this, so you know someone appreciates all you've done for my boy."

I accepted the gift. "Thanks for gesture, but I must tell you that you don't need to give me anything. Every service member will show the same kindness to your child ma'am. He is one of us, and we take care of our own."

That memory helped me understand why I felt like I had to give Maj. Hasan the benefit of a doubt. I wasn't defending a killer, I was showing solidarity to a service member who saw the same horrors I had seen. Who knows... he might end up being the murderous 'religious fanatic' my dad spoke of, but until I know for sure, I'll pray for his soul. And I will continue praying even if it is proved that his actions were deliberate, for the soul of someone who commits such a heinous act needs all the prayer the world has to offer.

Today, and always, I pray for the victims of war: the ones killed, the ones doing the killing, and the ones sitting at home looking for someone to blame.

Believing, Writing, Living...

Today was a day of quotes. The first blog I visited told me "Some things have to be believed to be seen." Then I clicked on my friend Marcia Colette's blog and she reminded me to "write like I am under contract."

I told myself, "WOW! These women must have my house bugged!" Do you Marcia? What about you, new friend from Life with Kaishon? Well, if you do, then I have to apologize for the weird noises I made last night. I dreamed I was duck calling. Yep, it weirded me out too!

Ralph Hodson's "Some things have to be believed to be seen", pretty much described my state of mind the last few months. I used to be a "see to believe" kind of girl, which might be why some things in my life didn't go so well. I wasn't seeing a whole lot of good, so I started to believe that it was just the way life was supposed to be. However, some life changing events pushed me into the 'believe and you might see' van wagon, and my life hasn't been the same ever since.

For instance, my love life had been a mess for as long as I could remember. I always thought I was too needy, too touchy-feely, too overwhelming... It had to be true, for most of my previous romantic partners made me see things that way. Lately, I started to believe that I wasn't too much of anything, at least not in a bad way; I am just ME. All of the sudden, I found a guy who thinks my annoying traits are perfect. Maybe because he acts the same way. So you see, I started to believe that I could find someone who would want me just the way I am, and voilà! I found a soul that seems to glow every time he touches me. And, um... he shines all the time!

All that brightness reminded me of my fiction writing. I didn't start thinking about writing as a 'real job' until less than a year ago. To me writing was a hobby, so I used to get hobby-like results from my efforts. Last spring I went to my first writing convention and heard Kim Harrison say that in order to make it in fiction writing, "You must write like you already have the contract." I've written many short stories since then, and I am nearly done with my first novel length manuscript! I gave myself a January deadline, so keep me in check ;)

I'm not trying to say that my life is perfect now. I don't even know if this new relationship is going to work. Also, I might write 50 novels, but who says that they are going to sell? All I'm trying to convey is that life is much more fun when one believes in oneself, and in the things one wants to accomplish.

Have you read any blogs that made you feel the blogger was talking about you?

CASA HICE

Alix, from CASA HICE, has been Touched by Pagan Culture Saturdays! There I was sitting on my recliner, more nervous than my little brother the day girlfriend #1 invited him to a party at girlfriend #2's house (Yes, the kid is lost and I don't know what to do with him, but that is another post).

I was nervous out of my mind because I went out last night, and um... stayed out *wicked grin* until not so long ago. I got home, took my shoes off, and fired up the lost kid's laptop--mine still broken. I was praying to all the Gods I know, and even some I have never heard of: PLEASE Randomizer, select a Wicked Darling I know a lot about! I was afraid the random system would pick someone who doesn't post much or a blog I just started following. I was afraid of having to do research.

I'm usually not this lazy, but I was up all night and I just knew my brain would not be working at its full potential. Wicked Darlings, I almost kissed my screen when I read the List Randomizer results. I was excited (and extremely relieved) because I don't even have to visit CASA HICE, to tell you what this blog is all about. Its creator is the mother of two children and the wife of a lovely husband. She is Christian conservative who stumbled into Pagan Culture and, according to her, was pleasantly surprised by what she has found here.

CASA HICE is about love, living, family... and all those wonderful things that make life worth living. What makes this blog, and its creator, so wicked fabulous is the fact that Alix has a way to touch people. Her posts range from the trivial to the "neurotic"; some will make you smile, others will tear you up, but the majority will leave you thinking: this woman rocks!

So run to CASA HICE and get hooked on something good; yours truly is already addicted ;)



*************
I wasn't going to include the actual List Randomizer results, but to see that Alix's name came up on the #1 & #2 spots made want to share it. I've been thinking/speaking about Alix a lot this week. Here and with friends and family. The random results made me wonder, could my thoughts have affected the outcome? Probably not, but it is fun to wonder about it ;)
*************
List Randomizer

There were 41 items in your list. Here they are in random order:

Alix
Alix
Kiki
Cogent Ascending
Bridgett
Judy
Bridgett
Rayden Darklighter
Carolina Gonzalez
Pixie
Yvonne Rathbone
Asshole Boyfriend
Emma
Melissa aka Equidae
Melissa aka Equidae
Emma
Emma
Bridgett
Tiffany
Sarita
Lisa
Bridgett
Heronmist
Melissa aka Equidae
Bridgett
Melissa Carmichael
Melissa aka Equidae
Klynch
Alix
Rue
Pixie
Bella Foxglove
D.Suplicki
Diandra
Emma
Aewynne Redwolf
Filho de Logunede
Lyon
Chef Green
Carolina Gonzalez
Janicu

Timestamp: 2009-11-07 20:36:49 UTC (3:36:49 EST)

Can the Recession Make Someone Crafty?

Yes it can!

This is my favorite bag. I got it during a very important period of my life, so I want to keep it forever and use it as much as possible. I love that I can wear it as a shoulder bag and as a backpack too.





















So I was devastated when the back straps broke ;( I took it to a leather repair shop (doesn't it seem like all my stuff is braking lately? Hm...) Anyway, they said that repairing it would cost me $50. Fifty bucks for two buckles!





















I walked home thinking about how to solve the issue myself. It was kind of chilly out, so I was wearing a fun scar I got from the warmest of librarians, who I met during my trip to Albany.









I got home and used my non-existing knot-tying experience to create this.



















I tested it and was pleased with how comfortable it felt.

I looked at myself in the mirror and went "Mmmm, nice!"

Then I smiled my BIGGEST smile. I thought about the $50 I saved and how much fun I had doing it. Not only that, but I have a bag as colorful and Eclectic as my witchy self. I'm loving it!

I'm convinced, the recession did indeed make me a big crafty, but my craftiness doesn't work on blogger because I still suck at loading pictures.

Have you made due with what you have because you refuse to spend unnecessary money?

Things I Feel Great About

Today Pagan Culture was spiced up into the triple digits by The Sauce! Yep my Wicked Darlings, Chef Green is the 100th member of our Eclectic Circle. I visited his blog in order to welcome him to the family, and the post that welcomed me made me feel really sad. The words were filled with that familiar pain, which touches those who have known despair.

I'm a very emotional reader, meaning that my feelings are affected by what the written word. This is the reason why I choose to follow a diverse bunch of bloggers who have managed to keep my moods relatively balanced. Chef Green's post listed the "things with which [he was] unwell". They were sad, angry... situations that immediately made me think about the times I've felt that way. Then I looked at my empty picture frame and focused on hope.

My frame made me remember that existing is about suffering and thinking hard, but true living is about hoping for the best all the time. So when memories about bitter relationships tried to intrude, I replaced them with thoughts about a great guy I recently met. Then a conversation I had with a jerk, who told me that the only reason I defended gay rights was because I "was going to burn in gay hell", threatened to ruin my day. I didn't let it; I took a deep breath and giggled, thinking about a picture I saw in Cogent Ascending's blog, which said "This is what it looks like to be gay and fabulous."

I do this often; when I start to feel unwell about a particular issue, I try my best to focus on the things I feel great about. I said "try" because there are some emotions that must be felt, even if they hurt.

What about you? How do you fight back when life's painful realities make the world seem like the most awful of places?


Mildly unrelated note: I bet you didn't know that a gay hell actually existed. Well, don't feel too bad, neither did I. I guess that this separation, on earth and in hell, is only known and understood by the highly ignorant. This might explain why the members of our Eclectic Circle didn't know about the place.

It Must Be The Moon!

The last few months have been rather difficult for me: my car accident in July nearly ruined my life, I lost the best living arrangement anyone could dream of in New York City, my grandmother passed away, choosing a graduate program has been a nightmare, my laptop is on its last leg... but this evening was like a fairytale; I'm so happy.

I went to Le Bateau Ivre and sipped delicious wine, while sharing great conversation with an amazing person--who, by the way, happened to be late. But I didn't mind, for his tardiness gave me time to scout the area. I ended up admiring the garden of a beautiful synagogue, and then walked a few blocks, just to discover a dreamy little shop that sold old books and precious pottery I can't afford. I didn't want to leave the little shop, but I couldn't leave my friend waiting, could I? So I told the owner of the shop that I would be back, to browse some more, after my friend and I parted ways.

Must people would have disregarded my promise as simple politeness, but not the owner of this little shop between 55th and 56th streets (can't spell the name of the shop or the owner's, but I'll be back soon to collect that information and to take some pics for you). The owner believed me when I said I was going to come back. I returned and he surprised me. He and his best friend (can't spell his name either!) waited for me and we shared the most exquisite fish and rice, ever. He said that it was an old Iranian recipe, but the only ingredients I recognized were the ones previously mentioned and sun dried tomatoes. But by the Gods everything was sooooo good!

I took the train home, after my amazing experience. I was laughing--people were staring--the whole way home. I was thinking about a comment a Wicked Darling made some time back. She said, "Wow. :) People just come to you don't they? That's awesome." Her words made me feel a bad, just a bit. I wondered if she thought that I exaggerated, or straight up lied, to make my posts more appealing. I don't think that anymore; my deepest apologies dear.

Today, I shared a glass of wine with an unbelievable guy who flew this morning from Chicago, a meal with two adorable old men from Iran, and the whole world with a bunch of great friends who take the time to read my words. My life is indeed unbelievable. I walked home from the train station, as the chilling November breeze soothed my thoughts. I closed my eyes for a second and silently asked The Old Ones, what did I do to deserve so many blessings? I looked up and saw the brightest of glows blowng kissing through the autumn leafs. I smiled and answered my own question: "It must be the moon!"

Any Thick-Skinned Computer Techs Out There?

I just got back from speaking to a computer technician. It was a nightmare! There isn't that much wrong with my computer; you see, my niece was playing with the power cord and she pushed it in too far. It needs to be opened and the socked needs to be readjusted. The technician told me that if there isn't any additional damage, the job would take 30 minutes--tops. I was deliriously happy! I smiled my BIGGEST smile, and told him that I would stick around while he did his magic.

"I have other jobs before yours," he said, "so I won't be able to touch your machine (what's up with guys calling laptops machines?) until this afternoon."

"That's fine," I assured him. "I'll be more than happy to bring it by this afternoon and wait for it then."

"What? You don't trust me or something?" He didn't look happy.

"Oh no!" My eyes almost popped out of my face. "Is not that... well, kind of, but I promise it is not you. I just had a really bad experience and now am a bit paranoid. Please try to understand."

He didn't try to understand. "I don't like people looking over my shoulder while I work, so you can go somewhere else."

I stood in the middle of his 8x8 computer shop staring at my lifeless laptop, and holding back angry tears. I couldn't believe I was back at square one.

I need to fix this laptop soon. I've backed up all my writing, minus the work I did the night prior to this issue, but I can not access my external hard drive with my brother's computer. I wish I could just go and get another laptop, but you know the economy... I'm on a budget... blah... blah... blah...

Well, I'm going to continue to use my brother's computer for now, but I need to focus on this issue. I'm going to be partially off the radar until I figure something out. Send me positive energy, a thick-skinned computer technician (or a check lol) to see if I can't get out of this situation soon.

Many hugs my Wicked Darlings. Computer-less woman OUT!

Touched by Pagan Culture Saturdays!

No, I'm not losing my mind, I do know today is not Saturday. I had some computer issues and the Wicked Darling who was going to be touched yesterday had email drama. But here I am and I believe that it is better late than never, don't you?

Now that I think about it, the recent troubles offer the perfect background to present Pixie's World of Wonder. Pixie Allen is a "fly by the seat of [her] pants" Eclectic Pagan Witch. She has gone through a LOT; if you take a chance to read a few of her older posts, you'll see that her life has been touched by chaos more than once. But she always makes the best of things, which is why her blog is being touched by Pagan Culture today.

Pixie is one of those--very rare--individuals capable of complete honesty, absolute love, and who has the ability to see goodness where others see none. Some people might keep certain things to themselves because they don't want others to think badly of them; Pixie is a bit different. She "embraces life with both hands; the good and the bad." She is the kind of friend who will tell you when an outfit looks hedious on you, but she won't fail to point out that she thinks you are amazing anyway.

I've never met Pixie face-to-face, but every time I have a problem or feel sad, I know that I can count on her to make it all better. Pixie's World of Wonder was touched by Pagan Culture today because its creator has touched my life in the most wonderful of ways.

Go check out a few of Pixie's posts and do let her know, if like me, you find her blog honest, sweet, and charming.

All Hallow's Eve Sweetheart Divination II

I promised I would share the results of my first, EVER, All Hallow's Eve Sweetheart Divination with you. Here are the results:

The first divination attempt was supposed to spell out the first letter of my sweetheart's name. I told you I sucked at this, it seems that my third eye is blind and my psychic hands can't spell. Can you see a letter here? I couldn't.














The next part was delicious, but no image over my shoulder :( Someone did email me when I was sitting in front of the mirror eating an apple and waiting. The funny thing is that he mentioned my post about symbols. He wanted to know if "pretty face" (not really sure who that is) made it into the frame. I've just met this particular individual and I never told him about blog. Strange. A second person called right at midnight, but I was already done so I don't know if that counts. What do you think?















Oh well, maybe I'll have better luck the next time around. Happy All Hallow's Day my Wicked Darlings!

All Hallow’s Eve Sweetheart Divination

I absolutely love The Witches’ Sabbats by Mike Nichols. Oh heck, I love all of Mike’s writings. The man tells it like it is, and has a way to make even the most dreadful of situations sound funny. But I’m not going to discuss one of his argumentative assays on this post; today, good old Mike is helping me come up with an emergency All Hollow’s Eve tradition.

My usual Halloween or All Hallow’s Eve tradition includes 13 days and 13 nights of cleansing, exercising and meditation, beginning on October 1^st. However, the beginning of this month was quite tough on me and mine, so things didn’t go as usual—no pre-All Hallow’s Eve Cleansing for me ;( I told myself that it would be okay. I would do my cleansing before the end of the calendar year instead, but something doesn’t feel quite right. I feel like I have to do something special for All Hallow’s Eve, other than my usual Dance for the Dead, which I do every year.

I’ve decided to do a bit of All Hallow’s Eve Divination. If you know me, you already know that I absolutely suck at divination. I can’t even analyze my own dreams without the help of Freud, and his interpretations end up making me feel like a pervert (But that is another post). Anyway, two nights ago I was lying in bed, not being able to fall sleep. I went ahead and cracked The Witches Sabbats for a bit of joy reading. I started giggling—I’ve giggled a lot lately. I just got extra happy when I started reading the section about how girls used to pinpoint their future sweethearts, using divination on All Hallow’s Eve. Mike gave me a few choices:

I could “place hazelnuts along the front of the firegrate,” and… wait a minute, I don’t own a firegrate, so I’m scratching this one off. Goodness I’m glad I don’t have a firegrate! The chanting that goes with this ritual is awful: “If you love me, pop and fly; if you hate me, burn and die.” I don’t want any of the guys who might like me or, um… hate me, to “burn and die”; that’s just too barbaric!

Okay, there is a better one. I “should slice an apple in half through the equator (to reveal the five-pointed star within) and then eat it by candlelight before a mirror.” According to Mike, this will make the image of my future sweetheart appear over my shoulder. I LIKE this one, and the one that follows too. I guess I can “peel an apple, making sure the peeling comes off in one long strand, reciting, ‘I pare this apple round and round again; my sweetheart’s name to flourish on the plain: I fling the unbroken paring o’er my head, my sweetheart’s letter on the ground to read.” The apple peel is supposed to spell out his initial. Sweet!

Yep, I’m doing both divination rituals to make sure, just in case I can’t get a good look when he is standing over my shoulder. I would do the last one too, but it involves waiting for “a snail to crawl through the ashes of [my] hearth. I’m a hearth-less girl, so that’s a no go. Oh, I’m a very modern Eclectic Pagan, so if the guy emails me, text messages me, or calls me on the phone during the ritual, I’m sure that will be as good as magically appearing over my shoulder. Right?

I promise to share the results of my first, EVER, All Hallow’s Eve Sweetheart Divination ritual with all my Wicked Darlings. So will you be nice and share some of your traditions with me and the rest of the Eclectic Circle? What do you and your families do for Halloween?

Personal Symbols: Empty Picture Frame

Symbols are of extreme importance when it comes to spirituality. When I think about my faith, the first thing that comes to mind is a Pentacle, which is why I wear one around my neck most of the time. To be honest, my entire life is surrounded by personal symbols. One that has been receiving a lot of attention lately is an empty picture frame I keep on my filing cabinet/nightstand (Yep, living space is nothing but a dream in this Eclectic Pagan’s dwelling, so she has to get creative).

I’ve had the empty picture frame for a few years. I bought it the day I decided I was ready to resume my romantic life. I told myself that the picture frame would be filled by the one who was going to claim that special place in my heart. Some time back a picture sat in front of the frame; not in it, just close to it. I looked at both and was almost sure that, soon, they were going to be one. It didn’t happen. The picture in question found its way into a box, after certain events made me realize I was about to make a mistake.

Sweet time has passed since that day. Lately, I’ve found myself looking at the empty picture frame more than usual. There is this guy who snuck into my life. Fast. He has been racing against my insecurities. He has used cunning and stealth that is natural to him—I don’t think he realizes what he is doing to me.

I’ve been running, guarding my empty picture frame in anyway I can. I’m used to looking back and making sure no one can catch us. I looked again, recently, and no one was near… then I saw an image closing in—panting. Its sweet voice caressing my face, promising that his face was meant to fill my picture frame. I’m scared and skeptical, but something tells me that he is going to win the race against my fears by a nose—a very LARGE nose ;)

Do you have any personal symbols in your life?

Museum of Sex

I was supposed to go to the New York Botanical Garden with a friend. We had been talking about going for about a week, but never did any real planning. Last night, I was browsing through the garden’s website and found out that it was closed on Mondays. I called my friend and let him know, so that we could make different plans. I started going through the Museums in New York City website, but didn’t find anything that caught my attention. Then out of the blue I went ahead and typed ‘sex museum nyc’ on my browser. Bingo! There it was; I didn’t even know that a museum of sex actually existed.

I text messaged my friend and told him. “You’re hilarious! Now, try finding a place to go to.” He replied.

“I’m serious!” I replied back “There is a Museum of Sex on Fifth Avenue.”

“Really? That should be something.”

“I can’t wait to see all your shades of crimson.” My friend blushes very easily, so he stays red as a tomato when he hangs out with me.

We got there at 2:00pm, paid about $30 for two tickets, and then started a very exciting experience.

The Sex Lives of Animals was the welcoming exhibit. “Look at that,” I told my friend. “The male Bonobo monkey uses sugar cane to try to get sex from females.”

“That is weird,” said my friend. In the meantime I was wondering if he was thinking about ways to get the monkey arrested for soliciting. My friend is a cop and he gets very annoyed when people violate the law. I’m not sure how he feels about monkeys though.

“What is that?” asked my friend a few minutes later.

I looked at the tiny screen he was frowning at. “It looks like a worm.”

“I know,” he said, “but what's it doing?”

“It’s… oh my!” It was a hermaphroditic banana slug, chewing off its own penis. Yikes!

I’m very supportive and understanding, so I pulled my friend away from the potentially traumatic image. You know how guys get around any situation that might compromise the safety of that particular part of their anatomy.

We walked to the second floor to see the next exhibit, Sex Machines. My jaw hit the floor, and then I giggled. I was staring at the picture of Jon Traven, a divorced Christian from Idaho who invented a sex machine in his garage. But my girly giggles died as soon as I started reading his story. It was very sad. It seems that he was having marital problems, and his sex life was crappy. He started working on the machine to give it to his wife as a present—to see if it could save the marriage—but she divorced him before he could find out. So now it is just him and his huge sex toy.

Well, I’m going to stop here because I don’t want to give everything away. I want you to be able to experience things for yourself if you decide to go for a look-see, or even a feel. Yep, a feel; there are a few items you can actually touch.

One last thing, be careful when you enter the Sex Machine exhibit. There is a huge mechanical dildo right next to the door, standing at the ready and at crotch level. I almost trip over the damn thing!

This museum might not be for everyone, especially if you are not ready to see animals getting it on. But if you are a cultured adult who finds social and sexual interaction intriguing, the Museum of Sex will definitely stimulate your senses.

One with Nature

I love meeting new people, especially individuals from other spiritual backgrounds who are as hungry for knowledge as I am. I was sitting—on the floor—by the mythology section at a Barnes & Noble last Thursday. I was browsing through a beautifully illustrated book on dragon magic, when a lady walked up to me.

She gave one of those doubtful looks that immediately tells you that a person is about to ask a question; she didn’t ask anything. She stood there for a few minutes, went to the next section of the bookstore and then returned and stared at me again.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I must be on your way. I’ll move.” I wasn’t on her way. I just wanted to break the ice.

“Not at all, I just…” She paused for a few seconds and focused on a world mythology book. “Can I ask you a question?”

I knew you could do it girlie! I thought. “You bet. Shoot.”

“I'm back to school after 17 years, and I’m taking a religion course. I took it because I thought it was going to be about something I was familiar with, but things have changed since my old college days. We are discussing Nature religions and I have to write a paper on it, but…” She let out a barely audible sigh.

“What do you know about Nature religions?” I interrupted.

“After discussing the topic in class and reading my textbook, I’ve realized I don’t know jack.” She laughed and I was glad she was relaxing a bit.

“Hm… I guess you can write about anything then. Have you thought about discussing the foundation of Nature religions, and how you understand them after reading up on the subject?” I was proud of me; you see, my mind was going a mile a minute. I was already drafting her paper in my head, but I actually formulated a question to make her think about her choices.

She frowned. “That’s the worst part. I tried doing that; explaining the basics of Nature religions from the perspective of someone with a very different spiritual upbringing. But every time I open a book I find something different.”

I believed her; there is just so much information out there. “You know what? I found a quote on The Power of Myth, a book I just started reading, and I think it fully explains what’s at the heart of Nature religions. It says that

‘Nature religions are not attempts to control nature but to help you put yourself in accord with it.’

So I would say that the one thing most—if not all Nature religions—have in common, is the fact that its followers are mindful of Mother Earth and everything that lives in it.”

“Oh man, I didn’t realize; so what Nature religion do you follow?” She looked hopeful.

I smiled. “I’m an Eclectic Pagan who likes to laugh, love and learn, so I follow my heart.”

She sat next to me on the floor. “I want to know more about it.”

And that my Wicked Darlings started a discussion that went on for nearly 3 hours. We exchanged numbers at the end. We are supposed to meet next Wednesday, when she’ll tell me all about her life as a Mormon.

What would you say, if someone asked you to describe your belief system or spiritual path in one sentence?