I can only really call myself a mystic. When I finally looked over my shoulder, and could no longer see any path at all...only my foot steps. I new I had arrived.
I was consumed by everything; everything that was, everything that is, and everything that will be. The utter mysterious profound freedom...consumed, accepted, deeply connected to everything...can only be described as "Love."
This whatever it is "God." Strangley, the shocking irony is in this place there is no "belief", and there is no "doubt." Here, I didn't have to struggle with which one to hold.
If any thing " doubt " for me was just a bridge. It's that chasm between the subjective and the objective. They are twp poles of the same reality. Ten or more years of inquiry, and questions, it kept me moving on an evolving adventure. And, it kept me moving.
If this, whatever it is, God-thing is love, in infinite bold letters "LOVE." It makes us look at our love, to find it filled with so many things. And in those "so many things", we find our love is polluted. Jealousy can't be apart of love. Hate, anger, possessiveness, can't be apart of love. Love knows no jealousy. Love knows no possessiveness; on the contrary, love gives freedom. If " Love " can't give absolute freedom...then, who is going to give it.
At that moment a revolution happens, an overwhelming sense of gratitude.You feel grateful for absolutely everything, every person...you even love your enemies. Love can't hate anything. Even if there is a scent of hate in the air, love ceases to exist.
So here I am, mystic, in this place of not believing, but not doubting, closer to childhood innocense...but, I guess you could call me a fool or crazy. If you were a christian, or someone witha religious slant, you might call it awe. But, it kind of makes me smile, burts into laughter, just looking at the miracle of existence all around me.
Here I am...therefore I am...once lost, now found.