March 23, 2015 1:03 PM
He asked me if I was fishing.
“No, I don’t fish,” I replied, “Just hanging out, having some lunch.”
He told me this whole area use to be state land, but now this boat ramp was all that was left of it. He pointed across the river and explained there were huge boulders lying just below the surface over there. He doesn’t launch his boat here anymore because of those damn boulders. He explained how he has a stainless steel prop and if you were to hit one of those rocks, rather than bend a blade, it would tear up your engine and the whole back of your boat. I nodded silently, not because I knew any of this, but because I’m always grateful when She talks to me through strangers…
The mind says, “Get a stainless steel prop. It’s tough, doesn’t rust or tarnish and is maintenance free. It’s great!”
But when this thought—this theory—is applied, well, then the theory doesn’t always hold up to Reality.
Earlier this morning, as I was driving down the rural backroads of Southern Georgia, I came across a wonderful sign:
What difference does it make which church you stay home from?
That’s really the gist of what sets the Mystic apart from the philosophers, isn’t it? The key difference between the Mystic and the nondualists who only focus on the Emptiness quality. The Mystic knows that in order to truly understand something, you’ve got to throw yourself into the fray. To not just talk about it, not just think and theorize and pontificate about it, but to dive in—consequences be damned—and live it.
To be a Mystic—to walk the talk—means you very well might hit a boulder and rip out the transom of your boat. But hidden among those dark and dangerous boulders are where the big fish lay—submerged secrets that the philosophers standing on the shore have no access to—and all the thinking and theorizing and excuses in the world won’t land a single one of them.
It’s easy to talk about this stuff, but not so easy to do.
The smart have their books. The wise have their scars.
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