(Stepping outside the journal and addressing the Fourth Wall.)
I don’t want my previous post to be too dissuasive of deep spiritual growth—that the life of a Mystic dooms one to a solitary existence.
Once a loved one becomes “acclimated” to your quirks—presence, vocabulary, and most importantly, your values—the relationship will settle down to a more comfortable level. Your friends and loved ones will learn to either accept your unique behavior and opinions—or they will simply avoid the relationship. Think Phoebe on the show Friends—she doesn’t get asked to explain herself all the time, to her friends she’s “just Phoebe.”
No, the Constantly Explaining Yourself Syndrome is a symptom of new relationships (and I consider dropping in on parents whom you normally don’t spend a lot of time with, a “new” relationship).
Nothing to be too concerned with. The cost is definitely worth the benefits of a deep intimacy with the Divine.
I sat on the patio, eating a slice of pizza, mesmerized and awed by an intricate and delicate dance. A small cluster of gnat-sized insects—who were completely invisible and unknown just moments before—were suddenly illuminated by the sun peeking through the clouds, lit up and aglow, rendered visible by a dark and manicured hedge. They swirled and circled and spun about, intimately aware of each other, intimately joined in a complex three dimensional flowing celebration of life—a celebration of each other. There is a magic in the dance of animals, the beauty of the movements and patterns of an ageless and mysterious ritual.
Instinct? Of course it is, but to name something is not the same as explaining it… not the same as understanding it.
To know how to dance without being taught, to know how to interpret and interact with the movements of a thousand other partners simultaneously and spontaneously…. Instinct? Knowledge somehow encoded and separated and combined in seed and egg and passed on through genes and DNA sequencing? To know how to swirl and to fly and to shift in a three dimensional unified manner, a dance that is completely unique in its shifting patterns?
Man is capable of duplicating the DNA of other life forms, but when placed on a slide, the glob of DNA just sits there. It is only when the DNA is inserted into a living cell that it grows and reproduces and thrives.
Are we just the results of some random evolutionary programming? I think not. Our bodies are just the machine, the physical burka we must all wear, but we are so much more than just a physical shell.
The tiny gnat-like creatures swirled and danced and celebrated. They are aware of each other—of their place in the Dance. The Light archetype—the Love archetype—moves and shines and sees through them. It brings life to them all.
The dance of Life is magic. The dance of Life is evidence of the Divine—evidence of an Intelligence silently and lovingly working behind the scenes of the physical realm we find ourselves in.
And of this dance? Oh, I am so awed and deeply grateful.
Like This? Buy the Book...
Purchase A Mystic's Journal on Amazon