The power of the universe flows in and through you. You can see the things that can’t be seen and can hear the things that can’t be heard. You don’t care about superficial appearances, only the deeper meaning. You are tuned in to the internal and the eternal rather than the external and the temporary. Your only problem getting dressed in the morning is fitting your clothes over your giant angel wings.
You always go deep and never shallow. You don’t get hung up on superficialities and always see the bigger picture. Instead of being practical and pragmatic, you’d rather leave it all up to fate and throw caution to the wind. You realize that when you fall, the universe will catch you.
Your Third Eye has 20/20 vision. You are wise enough to understand that some things go deeper than our understanding, that life may be short but that the afterlife is forever. You rarely feel separate or isolated or alone, because you realize that everything is interconnected, everything is part of The One.
You are a dreamer. A poet, A singer. A painter. Most of all, a lover rather than a fighter. You’d rather have a clean conscience than a new car. But you don’t forget to take your vitamins, vacuum the carpet, and brush your teeth, either. After all, you realize that God isn’t going to do everything for you.
You know that there’s a greater force out there, but you’re too busy paying the bills to give it much attention. You believe in God, but you also believe that God doesn’t need your help. You’re also of the belief that God isn’t particularly interested in hearing your problems. If God is anything like you imagine, he’s probably sitting in a hot tub right now and screening everyone’s calls.
You think it’s dumb to be an atheist who believes the universe just suddenly sprang from nothing, but you also believe it’s silly and naive to embrace two-thousand-year-old tribal myths. You pray when you’re in trouble, but that’s about as far as it goes. To God, you’re like that annoying friend who only calls when you need something. You figure there will be plenty of time to be spiritual in the afterlife. But for now, you have rent to pay and food to put on the table.
You are half-saint, half-sinner. You have one foot in this world, one in the otherworldly. When it comes to the afterlife, you’d prefer to spend summers in heaven and winters in hell. You’d like to explore your spiritual side, but your favorite show is coming on Netflix in five minutes, so your inner awakening will have to wait.
Superficially you hold the scales of justice, but you’re realistic enough to realize that “justice” is only a nice word for “revenge.” You realize that the power to tip those scales lies in your hands, not the invisible hands of some “higher power.” You have a personal relationship with God, but unlike so many others, you don’t feel compelled to blast it to the world. No one wants to hear about it, anyway.
You’d rather live in the real world than in the pretend world. You’d rather have an orgasm than an epiphany. You’d rather masturbate than meditate. You’d rather eat a sandwich than talk to God. You’d rather someone give you a $20 bill than have them donate it to charity. While everyone else has their eyes focused up toward the skies, you keep your eyes on the prize.
You are too irreverent to be spiritual. You get tempted to laugh in church. When people tell you that God spoke to them, you demand to hear the voicemail message. If you sneeze and someone says, “God bless you,” you say, “Where was he when I got a flat tire last week?” When some self-righteous Bible-thumper tells you that you’re going to hell, you say, “As long as you’re not there, I’ll be OK.”
You are earthy and physical and realistic. You’d rather get your hands dirty than have your sins forgiven. You’re not one to trifle with incense and incantations—you’re all about direct action. If someone does you wrong, you don’t pray—you get revenge. For you, a spiritual experience is getting drunk and being surrounded by hot guys. You’d take that over angels and harps any day of the week—even Sundays!
You are one super-duper-practical girl. You focus on the external rather than the internal. On what the eyes can see rather than what you see when you close your eyes. On the here and now instead of the hereafter. If you can’t see it, you won’t believe it. You’re more interested in what can be measured—such as a waistline or a bank account—than on what must be accepted as a matter of faith. Yeah, it’s nice that a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, but you’d rather hop in your car and drive.