Living As A Pagan In The City

When we think of paganism - which is essentially a nature religion - we often visualise forest clearings, flowing rivers, and ancient stones. But unfortunately for most of us pagans today, we don’t live surrounded by wilderness. We live in flats, terraced houses, tower blocks, and busy streets. It can feel difficult connecting with nature when you don't feel as though you have much nature around you. We can struggle to resonate with the trees and wildlife when we are surrounded by concrete and metal. But urban paganism brings its own form of relationship with the land and spirit, one which is shaped by this concrete, crowds, and the constant movement of the city.


The city is still an ecosystem. They are often framed as “unnatural,” but they are living systems: rivers are redirected underground, the birds make their nests in the rooftops, and if you look closely you can see the plants and weeds breaking through cracks in the pavements. In fact, weather patterns can be intensified by the presence of humans; thanks to the 'urban heat island' effect, built environments trap heat and alter local atmospheric conditions. For urban pagans, connecting to these places often means learning to listen beneath the noise. We can find natural beauty in the way that the rain hits the pavement and feel gratitude for the fertility it brings. We can see the moon rising between the buildings and connect with lunar energies, and we can work with the foxes, pigeons, and mice as animal guides.


Urban paganism asks us to expand our idea of what counts as nature, and sacred life. We can find representations of the elements in our every day lives, even in our own flats, as we live within the city. For example, the element of earth can be found in our houseplants, community gardens, even in building materials. The element of water exists in the rivers that run beneath our feet, in the rain, taps, condensation, and our own showers. The element of air appears in the wind tunnels between buildings, our breath, and shifts in the weather. And the element of fire can be found in traditional candles, electricity, our ovens, and the sun (when it eventually shines which can feel like a rare occurence here in the UK!).


I find that as a pagan living in the city, being able to balance myself is even more essential. Cities are busy places, and the energy can sometimes feel chaotic. I personally find that learning to ground, centre, and use techniques such as energy shields to protect my energy is especially important. But often, I love embracing this energy! Feeling the flow of it as people traverse the city and tapping into this can be electrifying. 


Urban sacred space often prioritises portability, privacy, and flexibility. What matters is not size or aesthetics, but consistency and relationship. I have found that it is important to find your own sacred spaces within the city. Just because we don't have leafy forests or far-reaching seas to connect with doesn't mean that there aren't still opportunities available to us. Many cities are steeped in history; the city I live in had a large Roman occupation, and with a little bit of research it is easy to find sites were temples and spaces where ancient deities and such were honoured. These may not be large, or even obvious, but perhaps a surviving water fountain or an old, crumbling wall. Or, you can make your own. Perhaps there is a specific bench you like to sit on during your lunchbreak, or a particular route you like to walk when you're feeling stressed and need a break? Maybe there is a certain coffee shop you meet your friends in regularly, somewhere that counts as a 'happy place' for you? Focus on how these places make you feel and how you connect with them; as the saying goes, there is magic in the mundane.


There are of course some extra considerations we need to make as pagans in the city. We may not be able to practice esbats or celebrate sabbats publically as it can be hard to find private spaces in the city. And if we do, we have to ensure our own personal safety first if we are performing somewhere out of the way. It can feel difficult to connect with the energy of the sabbats when the signs of the changing seasons aren't overly obvious (such as budding flowers, or falling leaves), but again, the city can reflect these changes in different ways. For example, I find that in my city, tourism is at its highest during the summer months, declining in the autumn months to almost none in the winter, and then starting to rise again in the spring. As the spring hits, the garden centres start to fill with a wider variety of plants, whereas during the winter they are pretty much empty. I know these may sound small or trivial, but paganism often emphasises cycles, and tuning into the cycles of your own city can be extremely powerful.


Urban places often hold many spirits; they may not be the spirits we will find in the trees and forests of the countryside, but rather our ancestors and the spirits of those who have gone before us, spirits of the home, and spirits of those deities and entities that were worshipped by those who lived before. The history of cities can complex, involving colonisation, industrialisation, and inequality. Honouring the land around us can mean acknowledging these complexities and working to heal the hurts of the past and the present.


Community can also look different in the city. It is often assumed that living in a large, diverse place must mean that there are more like-minded people you can connect with and practice with. However, I personally have found that this is not always the case. In fact, communities may tend to be smaller, and maybe even more 'exclusive' (often having been built by those who have had bad experiences with other communities in the past). Yes, there are more people which may mean more like-minded people, but it can also been more people with whom you don't agree with! In fact, even within cities, communities may be predominantly online - cities are large places, and sometimes even travelling from one end to the other can take hours. It is my experience that actually, communities in the city are often smaller, more private, and more discreet in the way they practice.


Urban paganism teaches us many things. It teaches us resilience, resourcefulness, creativity, and adaptability. It shows that sacred relationship is not dependent on ideal conditions. The city provides us with lots of opportunities - not just in terms of career paths of leisure activities, but spiritually too. Sometimes, we just need to listen a little harder to truly embrace it.