“The distinction between mystic and non-mystic is not merely that between the rationalist and the dreamer, between intellect and intuition. The question which divides them is this: What, out of the mass of material offered to it, shall consciousness seize upon — with what aspects of the universe shall it “unite”?
– Evelyn Underhill, Essential Writings.
According to him, the Poet William Blake’s childhood included mystical religious experiences such as “beholding God’s face pressed against his window, seeing angels among the haystacks, and being visited by the Old Testament prophet Ezekiel.”
My mystical experiences are not nearly as vivid. They mainly happened when I was alone, preferably in a forest or mountain, visiting the dying as a hospice volunteer, now listening to birds, or walking with my dogs. For me, it’s clearing the junk humans put into my head and searching for the bigger picture, the reality, not the posturing or dogma.
The King scans his kingdom, hoping, no doubt, for something to eat.
Eating with enthuiasm
The new Spring birds are arriving.
I appreciate his showing me his color.
