You May be a Pagan if...
You May be a Pagan if...
You know bay leaves in your spice rack and laurel leaves are the
same thing.
When you are at an Arbor Day tree planting event, you drop a crystal
into the hole you just dug to bless the tree.
You pack a lots of bag lunches in October to give away to the
homeless for the "Samhain sandwiches" project.
You planted bushes for a butterfly garden.
You clean up trash in the nearby park.
You pour a few drops of your water on the ground as a libation to
the earth when you take a break from hiking before you take a
swallow.
You talk to the trees.
You talk to cats; they answer you...and you understand them.
(If you have another type of animal living with you, you probably do
the same with that animal too.)
Your CD's include meditation music.
After you get call from a sick friend on the phone and promise to
send her or him some "get well wishes," you walk over to a statue,
take out a cone or stick of incense and light it. Then you set the
lit incense in a suitable holder near the statue.
You own clothes that look like Renaissance Fair or Faery Festival
garb--in fact, they look like you've worn them a lot, and they have
candle wax drippings on them.
After vacuuming a your brand new house, you sprinkle rock salt on the
floor, take out a broom, open the door to "air", and then begin
sweeping up the salt in counterclockwise spiral. After you sweep
the rock salt into a pile, you scoop up all the salt, and carry it
out side to the garbage can immediately. Then you close the door.
You explain the universe was obviously designed by a committee.
You don't use chem lawn and tell neighbors you actually like the
clover and dandelions growing in the grass. (If they look confused,
you start discussing how to make dandelion tea and/or dandelion wine)
You feed the birds, and sprinkle bread crumbs from your home made
corn bread muffins (which served as "cakes" last time people came
over) to mix in with the bird seed in the bird feeder.
You are concerned about correctly dispersing the energy contained in
a clay talisman after it has completed it's purpose, and break up
the clay and put it in your compost pile.
On the way to an event, you've made a quick stop at the 7-11 to pick
up a half cord of firewood for the bonfire because it's you're turn.
Your friends know you will always be happy with gifts of candles or
incense for any occasion.
You've taken ritual baths in a Jacuzzi.
You have the moon phases on your calendar.
You sometimes accidentally refer to the days of the week as Moon's
day, Twi's day, Woden's day, Thor's day, Freya's day, Saturn's day,
or Sun's day when speaking to people who have no idea what you are
talking about.
You don't view the term "Mother Nature" as just a metaphor.
You've danced around a may pole.
You hated the 2006 remake of the *Wicker Man*, and have told people
where the movie makers screwed up the whole concept by getting rid
of the music, and how they ought to have never dumped the material
from the *Golden Bough* either.
You not only have plenty of candles when the power goes out, you
know where they are and where the matches are.
You doodle in Egyptian hieroglyphs.
You make yourself a sandwich and usually add fresh herbs from your
garden to it.
When you brew a hot cup of tea it might be a yellow-colored infusion
of flowers; you never make instant Lipton tea.
You have a cabinet full of strange little bottles with lables of
exotic sounding ingredients like dragon's blood, asafetida, rue,
Balm of Gildad, black salt, yarrow, rosewater, artemisia, Florida
crystals, yerba mate, lavender, etc
You own a mortar and pestle, know where it is, and use it a lot.
You recycle, but oddly many jars are actually reused to hold little
items like paper, pins, and soil.
You take vacations to see places like Salem, MA, Stonehenge and
Newgrange in England, Rome in Italy, etc. You call these vacations
pilgrimages.
You have cats, or other pets, named Diana, Robin, Pyewaket,
Rutterkin, Bear, and/or Salem.
You have pretty statues in your house with things like a cup of
water, flowers, or candy at its base. It upsets you when people
touch these items.
You got a a dumbek or bodram for your last birthday, and you like to
play it outside at night usually under a full moon.
You own stuff decorated with Celtic patterns or a "stars and moons"
design.
You buy organic food because you think it tastes more wholesome.
You buy a food that don't really eat yourself, explaining that the
"spirits" have asked you to leave some in the woods.
You tie knots in strings, chanting the names of certain Goddesses,
blow on the knots, and wish for winds of peace to blow across the
lands.
You go on vacation and sit in a dome-shaped hut heated by hot stones
in order to sweat--especially you are Caucasian with no known Native
American Indian ancestry and do this activity at least a few times a
year.
You spend your Saturday and Sunday frantically trying to get a hold
of someone who is storing the truck load of "sweat blankets" in a
shed so that you can transport them to an event that week.
You lie on the floor while some one reads a narrative about
descending a long black spiral staircase, through a tunnel, back
outside and across a bridge over water and then opening a door into
order to view supernatural landscape or being.
You attend a class on meditation and some participants are naked
while others are dressed in jeans and tee shirt or Renaissance
clothing.
You see nothing odd about the clothing, or lack thereof.
You have attended more than one "gentle touch group massage" worship
where four different people have massaged you body at the same time.
You drag boxes to an event holding 26 items to set out on a long
flat base which includes statues, water, salt, liquor, feathers,
dishes, honey, bread, seeds, flowers, and long pieces of cloth.
You like doing this activity.
On a weekend close to June 21, you stood in big field with about 150
people chanting to the bright, summer sun while it began raining.
You got soaked, but you didn't care.
When you have the dwelling to yourself, you set one lit candle in
front of a mirror so that its image is reflected. Then you sit in
comfortable chair and fix your eyes on the reflection of the candle
and sit quitely staring at it for about an hour. You do not think
this activity is boring and neither is it a waste of time.
You attend functions in which people drum and chant while you and 4
others sit in chairs in the center of a circle. Other attendees wave
their hands around your body. You believe this is a useful activity.
Your child asks loudly asks in the store if you can buy a
bunch "pretty flowers to give to the pixies outside," and you agree
this is a good idea.
You celebrate Groundhog's Day, but you have a funny name for it.
You are familiar with the angel Uriel or Aureiel--along with Michael,
Raphael, and Gabriel--but this puzzles Christians because there is
no angel named Uriel or Aureiel in the bible.
You build faery houses as a gift to nature spirits.
You seek out faery offerings to leave in your yard that doesn't
encourage the exploding field mouse population in your neighborhood.
You've danced holding hands ring-around-the-rosy style around a low
table adorned with incense, candles, cup(s) of liquid, crystals,
stones, and various items related to the season, chanting a certain
word over and over to focus everyone's' minds.
You take Halloween off, because it's a religious holiday, and you
visit some of your family's graves.
Even if you don't do all of this stuff, you know of like-minded
friends that do.
You also can pontificate on why you or your like-minded friends do
this stuff.
You know bay leaves in your spice rack and laurel leaves are the
same thing.
When you are at an Arbor Day tree planting event, you drop a crystal
into the hole you just dug to bless the tree.
You pack a lots of bag lunches in October to give away to the
homeless for the "Samhain sandwiches" project.
You planted bushes for a butterfly garden.
You clean up trash in the nearby park.
You pour a few drops of your water on the ground as a libation to
the earth when you take a break from hiking before you take a
swallow.
You talk to the trees.
You talk to cats; they answer you...and you understand them.
(If you have another type of animal living with you, you probably do
the same with that animal too.)
Your CD's include meditation music.
After you get call from a sick friend on the phone and promise to
send her or him some "get well wishes," you walk over to a statue,
take out a cone or stick of incense and light it. Then you set the
lit incense in a suitable holder near the statue.
You own clothes that look like Renaissance Fair or Faery Festival
garb--in fact, they look like you've worn them a lot, and they have
candle wax drippings on them.
After vacuuming a your brand new house, you sprinkle rock salt on the
floor, take out a broom, open the door to "air", and then begin
sweeping up the salt in counterclockwise spiral. After you sweep
the rock salt into a pile, you scoop up all the salt, and carry it
out side to the garbage can immediately. Then you close the door.
You explain the universe was obviously designed by a committee.
You don't use chem lawn and tell neighbors you actually like the
clover and dandelions growing in the grass. (If they look confused,
you start discussing how to make dandelion tea and/or dandelion wine)
You feed the birds, and sprinkle bread crumbs from your home made
corn bread muffins (which served as "cakes" last time people came
over) to mix in with the bird seed in the bird feeder.
You are concerned about correctly dispersing the energy contained in
a clay talisman after it has completed it's purpose, and break up
the clay and put it in your compost pile.
On the way to an event, you've made a quick stop at the 7-11 to pick
up a half cord of firewood for the bonfire because it's you're turn.
Your friends know you will always be happy with gifts of candles or
incense for any occasion.
You've taken ritual baths in a Jacuzzi.
You have the moon phases on your calendar.
You sometimes accidentally refer to the days of the week as Moon's
day, Twi's day, Woden's day, Thor's day, Freya's day, Saturn's day,
or Sun's day when speaking to people who have no idea what you are
talking about.
You don't view the term "Mother Nature" as just a metaphor.
You've danced around a may pole.
You hated the 2006 remake of the *Wicker Man*, and have told people
where the movie makers screwed up the whole concept by getting rid
of the music, and how they ought to have never dumped the material
from the *Golden Bough* either.
You not only have plenty of candles when the power goes out, you
know where they are and where the matches are.
You doodle in Egyptian hieroglyphs.
You make yourself a sandwich and usually add fresh herbs from your
garden to it.
When you brew a hot cup of tea it might be a yellow-colored infusion
of flowers; you never make instant Lipton tea.
You have a cabinet full of strange little bottles with lables of
exotic sounding ingredients like dragon's blood, asafetida, rue,
Balm of Gildad, black salt, yarrow, rosewater, artemisia, Florida
crystals, yerba mate, lavender, etc
You own a mortar and pestle, know where it is, and use it a lot.
You recycle, but oddly many jars are actually reused to hold little
items like paper, pins, and soil.
You take vacations to see places like Salem, MA, Stonehenge and
Newgrange in England, Rome in Italy, etc. You call these vacations
pilgrimages.
You have cats, or other pets, named Diana, Robin, Pyewaket,
Rutterkin, Bear, and/or Salem.
You have pretty statues in your house with things like a cup of
water, flowers, or candy at its base. It upsets you when people
touch these items.
You got a a dumbek or bodram for your last birthday, and you like to
play it outside at night usually under a full moon.
You own stuff decorated with Celtic patterns or a "stars and moons"
design.
You buy organic food because you think it tastes more wholesome.
You buy a food that don't really eat yourself, explaining that the
"spirits" have asked you to leave some in the woods.
You tie knots in strings, chanting the names of certain Goddesses,
blow on the knots, and wish for winds of peace to blow across the
lands.
You go on vacation and sit in a dome-shaped hut heated by hot stones
in order to sweat--especially you are Caucasian with no known Native
American Indian ancestry and do this activity at least a few times a
year.
You spend your Saturday and Sunday frantically trying to get a hold
of someone who is storing the truck load of "sweat blankets" in a
shed so that you can transport them to an event that week.
You lie on the floor while some one reads a narrative about
descending a long black spiral staircase, through a tunnel, back
outside and across a bridge over water and then opening a door into
order to view supernatural landscape or being.
You attend a class on meditation and some participants are naked
while others are dressed in jeans and tee shirt or Renaissance
clothing.
You see nothing odd about the clothing, or lack thereof.
You have attended more than one "gentle touch group massage" worship
where four different people have massaged you body at the same time.
You drag boxes to an event holding 26 items to set out on a long
flat base which includes statues, water, salt, liquor, feathers,
dishes, honey, bread, seeds, flowers, and long pieces of cloth.
You like doing this activity.
On a weekend close to June 21, you stood in big field with about 150
people chanting to the bright, summer sun while it began raining.
You got soaked, but you didn't care.
When you have the dwelling to yourself, you set one lit candle in
front of a mirror so that its image is reflected. Then you sit in
comfortable chair and fix your eyes on the reflection of the candle
and sit quitely staring at it for about an hour. You do not think
this activity is boring and neither is it a waste of time.
You attend functions in which people drum and chant while you and 4
others sit in chairs in the center of a circle. Other attendees wave
their hands around your body. You believe this is a useful activity.
Your child asks loudly asks in the store if you can buy a
bunch "pretty flowers to give to the pixies outside," and you agree
this is a good idea.
You celebrate Groundhog's Day, but you have a funny name for it.
You are familiar with the angel Uriel or Aureiel--along with Michael,
Raphael, and Gabriel--but this puzzles Christians because there is
no angel named Uriel or Aureiel in the bible.
You build faery houses as a gift to nature spirits.
You seek out faery offerings to leave in your yard that doesn't
encourage the exploding field mouse population in your neighborhood.
You've danced holding hands ring-around-the-rosy style around a low
table adorned with incense, candles, cup(s) of liquid, crystals,
stones, and various items related to the season, chanting a certain
word over and over to focus everyone's' minds.
You take Halloween off, because it's a religious holiday, and you
visit some of your family's graves.
Even if you don't do all of this stuff, you know of like-minded
friends that do.
You also can pontificate on why you or your like-minded friends do
this stuff.
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