"Earth's crammed with heaven."

Many Pagans (and lots of other people) love Rob Brezny's Free Will Astrology. I think of Rob as a prophet of joy for the jaded hipster set. (I include myself in that demographic, although my hipster cred is questionable.) The other day I picked up his book, Pronoia is the Antidote for Paranoia, which promises to be a holy book of fascination and clear-sighted optimism. I want to join Rob's tribe.

So I'm curious, my fellow creators. Since you and I are in charge of making a new world - not just breaking the old world - where do we begin? What stories do we want at the heart of our experiments? What questions will be our oracles?

I'm allergic to dogma. I thrive on the riddles. Any idea I believe, I reserve the right to disbelieve as well.

But more than any other vision I've ever tested, pronoia describes the way the world actually is. It's wetter than water, stronger than death, and truer than the news. It smells like cedar smoke in early spring rain, and if you close your eyes right now, you can feel it shimmering like the aurora borealis in your organs and muscles. Its song is your blood's song.

Some people argue that life is strife and suffering is normal. Others swear we're born sinful and only heaven can provide us with the peace that passes understanding. But pronoia says that being alive on the rough green and brown earth is the highest honor and privilege. It's an invitation to work wonders and perform miracles that aren't possible in any nirvana, promised land, or afterlife.

I'm not exaggerating or indulging in poetic metaphor when I tell you that we are already living in paradise. Visualize it if you dare. The sweet stuff that quenches all of our longing is not far away in some other time and place. It's right here and right now.

Poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning knew the truth: "Earth's crammed with heaven."