Mystic

I haven’t always known it. For a long time, I think that I have wanted to be a mystic. It has been more of a longing than an intention or decision. I have wanted to fall into the dark and infinite mind of the universe . But I was only slightly aware that becoming something like a mystic may have been my heart’s desire.

Even now, I am not really sure just what it means to be a mystic. I just know that I want to swim in the limitless, loving amniotic waves of the endless void. I want to routinely embrace the darkness of each endless fall. That is what I imagine the classic mystics experienced, even though they expressed it in an assortment of different ways. More exactly, those who recorded the activities of the mystics, wrote about mystics in a way that made sense to them.

Now, I’m not even sure that my experience makes sense to me. I just know that there is a deep sense of nothingness. I briefly experience falls into an absence of all that I know, and I feel that I am entering an intelligence that is beyond my grasp. I just am aware that it is an intelligence that is warm, welcoming and loving. I allow myself to get swept up by that loving surge of energy and formless awareness. It carries me into whoever or whatever is around me. My whole body and mind radiate an awareness that seems part of a universal mind, a universal awareness.

There is no way of knowing exactly what the mystics experienced. Giving their experience any description is an attempt to do what language is incapable of accomplishing. My own adventuring into emptiness is something of what I imagine mystcism is like. What I am experiencing is a form of intimacy with the universe that has been my longing for sixty years. There is no other way to describe it except to say that it is the path of a mystic. It is a path I joyfully embrace, mystical or not.