If, as they say, belief is a gift, I didn't get much.
Fortunately, I'm a pagan, so it doesn't matter.
Of course, there are believing pagans out there. Well, better an honest believer than a dishonest unbeliever.
But I suspect that most of us straddle that hedge, with one foot in belief and the other in doubt. And that I can respect.
I reached the crisis of faith early on in my pagan career. I loved the Old Gods passionately, but I realized that I couldn't be intellectually honest with myself and say that I actually believed in them.
I was working as a night watchman that summer, so I had many opportunities for dark nights of the soul. Finally, one night, the hag came down and we wrestled.
All night we wrestled.
In the morning, the Sun came up. Out of that struggle, I had won myself a realization.
Belief is moot.
Believe, don't believe: in the end, it doesn't matter.
I could be pagan, I could walk the Old Ways, I could love the Old Gods, all without belief.
Pagan isn't what you Believe.
Pagan is who your People is.
Pagan is what you Do.
Pagan is who you Are.
Blessed are those that doubt, for they shall be called, the wise.