What I am, and what that means.

When I first decided to start a simple living blog, I have to admit that even that was a daunting task. Not in the thought of upkeep or content or the like, but because of how dissimilar, in a lot of ways, I am from the majority of other simple living bloggers.

Most of the blogs I read that espoused a simple and frugal life had two threads that ran through them. They were written by Christians, and they were written by mothers.

Being neither of those things, I wondered if reaching out for a community was a pointless venture. I don't much care for children (personal issues where that's concerned, and it isn't that I hate them so much as I don't have the patience for them, nor do I understand them) and I have, to be frank, had some bad experiences with people who are vocally Christian. Even the ones that didn't tell me I'm going to hell spent hours trying to convert me rather than accepting me for who I was.

I am pagan, at the heart of it all. And I tend to live by a simple rule where religion is concerned. "Don't try to force your religion on me and I won't try to force mine on you."

I call myself a Quakerversalist Pagantarian, which I find fits rather well. The message of silence and simplicity in Quaker beliefs appeals to me, and I was thrilled when I learned that one could be both a Quaker and a pagan, since the Divine speaks to people in many ways. I know in the nod to Universalist Unitarians since they have a nearby church that I enjoy going to when I can get there.

Why am I coming right out and saying this, instead of just hinting at it or acting like everybody knows in the first place? Because in avoiding saying it right out, I was making things more complicated on myself (the antithesis of simplicity, after all), and I was also acting as though I'm ashamed of my faith. I'm not. My faith gives me strength the way the faith of others gives them strength, and there's no shame in that.

As for myself, I'm confident enough in my own faith that I don't feel threatened by other people talking about their faiths. I enjoy reading about the relationships that people have with their deity of choice. Often their lessons are lessons I could stand to learn. Maybe some of my lessons are lessons somebody else could stand to learn.

But no more hiding. No more veiled hints. No more sneakiness and avoidance. I am what I am.