Naturalistic Paganism

Upcoming work

This Sunday

Rua Lupa

Last fall’s challenge post by Jake Diebolt saw some critical but valuable debate, and now we’ve got another challenge.  Rua Lupa takes up the issue of terminology in a new debate.

Understanding word use and how science relates to religion, by Rua Lupa

Appearing Sunday, February 26, 2012

Next Sunday

B. T. Newberg

Are we humans the only beings in the universe that can know anything?  Are we really so unique, or are we part of a seamless web of universal knowing?

The new Copernican shift: How science is revolutionizing spirituality, by B. T. Newberg

Appearing Sunday, March 4, 2012

Recent Work

Nature shock, by B. T. Newberg

Making stock, taking stock, by Bart Everson

Four critical questions for HP in the coming year, by B. T. Newberg

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B. T. Newberg ebooks

Nature shock

Korean ecoregion

Will our new ecoregion in Korea change who we are?

– by B. T. Newberg

When you move to a different ecoregion, do you experience nature shock?  If not, why not?

Most people are familiar with culture shock – the cycle of highs and lows experienced in the process of acclimating to a new culture.  But what about nature shock?  Shouldn’t there be a similar process of acclimation to a new ecoregion?

Top image from Kitspix, bottom from wwf.org

From horizontal Minnesota (above) to vertical Korea (below)

Entering a new ecoregion

My wife and I are currently making just such a transition.  We just left our native Minnesota, with its flat, farm-field prairies in the south, and its flat, rolling timber-woods in the north – all of it dotted with as many lakes as the sky has stars.

Now we’re beginning a new life in a very different landscape.  South Korea’s southwestern province of Jeollabuk-do is a region of rice paddies struggling for space between soaring uplands of forested hills.  Whereas flat Minnesota was all horizontal, rugged Korea is very much vertical.

The question is: are we going to experience nature shock due to the change?

Probably not.

Don’t get me wrong – I love Minnesota.  I try to get up to the North Woods at least once a year, and last year I was fortunate enough to spend a trip with two amazing people.  The land of Minnesota is dear to me.

Yet apart from some nostalgia, I don’t expect much of a shock.  Why not?

Growing apart from the land

Perhaps it’s because nature doesn’t define us any more.  We are living in an age when the land is not fundamentally crucial to who we are.  Local environmental conditions no longer define how hot or cold we are (we have heat and a/c), what we eat (we get food flown in from all over), or how we live (you can go skiing in Dubai).

Nor do local conditions define how we think.  We aren’t compelled to speak of the local water source as Mother, the sky as Father, or the animals as Brothers and Sisters. Frankly, we have the choice to totally ignore them.

But we don’t have to make that choice.  We can pursue a deep relationship with the land, one where we are where we live.  The thing is, we have to actively cultivate that mindset.

Growing closer to the land

So, the question becomes: what can we do to grow closer to the land, close enough that we might experience a shock upon entering a new ecoregion?

1. Spend time in the local region and get to know it.  Where does the local water come from?  From which direction does weather arrive?  What species of migratory birds venture here, and when can you see them?  When can you find wild edibles in season?

2. Perform meaningful activities in local nature.  You can define for yourself what constitutes “meaningful” – whether it’s camping overnight alone in a tent, or crafting a wreath of local in-season blossoms and casting it into a river along with a prayer of gratitude.  Whatever you do, it should have an emotional impact, and it should call into question your relationship with the land.

3. Research your local footprint, and change how you live.  When we realize how much impact we have on the local environment, and how dependent we truly are on it, suddenly it becomes a lot more important to our daily lives.

You see, it wasn’t quite true when I said we have the choice to ignore nature.  We don’t.

In fact, the current global environmental crisis is reasserting the old sense of dependence on nature, and we don’t have the choice to ignore it anymore.  We are starting to wake up – slowly – to how we must live and think in accordance with nature.

So, perhaps it is time to cultivate a genuine relationship with the local land again.  Perhaps it should define who we are.  We might grow close to it, close enough that entering a different region causes nature shock.

This hasn’t always been at the top of my list of priorities.

Be where you live

Maybe my wife and I should be grieved to see no more Minnesota loons on the lakes, and ecstatic for the egrets soaring over Jeollabuk-do.  Maybe we should feel anxious without the flat fields of home, and awed amidst the new rugged uplands.  A cycle of highs and lows should whip us about as we acclimate to this new place.  When transitioning from an old love to a new love, it is only appropriate that we feel grief and loss, as well as hope.

Will we?

Because if we don’t experience a shock when we enter a new region, what does that say about the depth of our relationship to the land back home?

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Naturalistic magic?

There’s something interesting going on over at altmagic.com.  Could this be a naturalistic form of magic?

When the site started, I was extremely skeptical.  It’s the work of Drew Jacob, and it’s no secret that he’s a good friend of mine (not to mention an HP contributor).  Yet despite our friendship, I’ve been quite reluctant to mention his new business.  Selling magic scrolls online?  Um…  Even I have a hard time stomaching that one.  It’s hard to imagine a more blatant way to exploit naïve believers in the supernatural.

That’s why it’s been such a surprise to see his work.  He calls himself an “honest magician”, and makes good on that claim by stating flat out he doesn’t know why or even whether his magic works.  Beyond that, he’s publishing a series of articles that call bullshit on supernatural explanations, and present scientifically-sound research toward naturalistic explanations of certain “magical” phenomena.

Where is this going, and will it ever be able to justify ordering magic scrolls from a website?  I don’t know.  Honestly, I have my doubts.  But I’m looking forward to finding out.

As for Drew’s magic, let me just say this:

Getting me to actually take seriously a site that sells magic scrolls? – well, that’s magic enough for me.

Here are a few particularly interesting articles so far:

  • The Honest Magician – Here’s where he calls out other magicians for dodging the question of whether magic works, and puts forward his vision for a different approach
  • Skeptic Tests – Here he acknowledges that hundreds of well-designed tests of a variety of magicians have all failed to confirm results, without exception.  But what about tests of traditional tribal magicians?
  • Three Magic Spells That Work – This one presents scientific research toward naturalistic explanations for tumo, vodou zombies, and death curses.

Upcoming work

This Sunday

B. T. Newberg

As my wife and I cope with the culture of our new home of South Korea, we’ll no doubt experience some culture shock.  But what about coping with the new ecoregion?  Will we experience nature shock?  If not, why not?

Nature shock, by B. T. Newberg

Appearing Sunday, February 19, 2012

Next Sunday

Rua Lupa

Last fall’s challenge post by Jake Diebolt saw some critical but valuable debate, and now we’ve got another challenge.  Rua Lupa takes up the issue of terminology in a new debate.

Understanding word use and how science relates to religion, by Rua Lupa

Appearing Sunday, February 26, 2012

Recent Work

Making stock, taking stock, by Bart Everson

Four critical questions for HP in the coming year, by B. T. Newberg

Terror and mystery: An excerpt from The Sacred Depths of Nature by Ursula Goodenough

Get our ebooks

B. T. Newberg ebooks

Making stock, taking stock, by Bart Everson

We’ve had the habit for many years of constantly making stock. We are always saving any bits of vegetables left after slicing and dicing — carrot tops, onion skins — as well as the occasional bone. We save these in the fridge and, every few days, we boil them in water to make a stock. If we already have a stock on hand, we simply combine everything. The stock grows richer, and darker, and more flavorful, with each iteration. A stock will keep indefinitely if you boil it often enough. Each stock is different, unique. We couldn’t recreate them if we tried. We use the stock to give flavor to rice or greens or other such cookery.

It’s economical, it’s fun, and it also tends to make the house smell nice. I highly recommend it. It seems like a metaphor for something, but I’m not sure what. That’s the very best kind of metaphor, if you ask me.

Maybe it’s a metaphor for what I’m doing right now. As I continue my quest for discovery and definition, I’ve been storing up bits and pieces, ideas and aspects. I want to pause, take stock, simmer in my own juices for a moment, see where I’m at so far.

Making Stock

Just like stock, our paths combine many ingredients into a rich, nuanced flavor.

I can say three things with some degree of certainty. I’m not sure if these qualify as statements of value or just descriptions. This is what my religion or spiritual orientation looks like in broad outline. I’ll unpack each term a little.

  • Celebratory: The main function is to celebrate, not to manipulate. Ritual practices mark our place in the world and the universe, in the wheel of the year and the cycle of life, in family and community. I use the term celebrate in the old sense. It is not a synonym for “party,” though parties are celebrations of a sort. But so are funerals. In New Orleans, of course, it is sometimes hard to tell the difference.
  • Naturalistic and humanistic: The natural world, as revealed through sense experience and through science, invested and storied with meaning and mythology by countless generations of humanity, is sufficient and complete in itself. Deep mysteries remain, but supernatural explanations are best understood as metaphors or thought experiments. Gods and goddesses hold special power as archetypes that emerge from human consciousness.
  • Earth-centered: The planet we live on, our home and mother, is the source of much inspiration. There is wonder in the sun and the moon and all the stars, but the Earth holds a special place of reverence and awe. To experience this place as sacred is a continual challenge for the individual in a technological-industrial society. To recognize and refocus on our participation in the ecosphere is a main purpose of religious celebration.

To these three I’m tempted to add a fourth: Communitarian. I’d like to see our practice connecting us to a larger community beyond the immediate family. I hesitate because this seems more like an aspiration than a plain fact, and I have a certain deep ambivalence about other people, especially when it comes to our most deeply cherished notions of value and cosmology. I’m skeptical of radical individualism even as I’ve lived and breathed it all my life. Civic engagement is important; revolutions of conscience are necessary; our way of being in the world must be transformed; but exactly how all this intersects with spiritual practice is a puzzle that continues to unfold.

All of this is enough to suggest some sort of naturalistic or humanistic paganism, which comes as no surprise. Through the net I’ve discovered many others of like mind. But these are very large umbrella terms. One major question that remains unresolved is whether I’m on any established path or simply blazing my own trail. It is perhaps the main question, a fact which has only become clarified through the process of writing this.

Which is what making stock is all about.

Stock, finished

About the author

Bart Everson

Bart Everson is a writer, a photographer, a baker of bread, a husband and a father. An award-winning videographer, he is co-creator of ROX, the first TV show on the internet. As a media artist and an advocate for faculty development in higher education, he is interested in current and emerging trends in social media, blogging, podcasting, et cetera, as well as non-technological subjects such as contemplative pedagogy and integrative learning. He is a founding member of the Green Party of Louisiana, past president of Friends of Lafitte Corridor, sometime contributor to Rising Tide, and a participant in New Orleans Lamplight Circle.

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B. T. Newberg ebooks