Exceptional Excerpts: Mystics and Sages

"Are the mystics and sages insane? Because they all tell variations on the same story, don't they? The story of awakening one morning and discovering you are one with the All, in a timeless and eternal and infinite fashion. Yes, maybe they are crazy, these divine fools. Maybe they are mumbling idiots in the face of the Abyss. Maybe they need a nice, understanding therapist. Yes, I'm sure that would help. But then, I wonder. Maybe the evolutionary sequence really is from matter to body to mind to soul to spirit, each transcending and including, each with a greater depth and greater consciousness and wider embrace. And in the highest reaches of evolution, maybe, just maybe, an individual's consciousness does indeed touch infinity — a total embrace of the entire Kosmos — a Kosmic consciousness that is Spirit awakened to its own true nature. It's at least plausible. And tell me: is that story, sung by mystics and sages the world over, any crazier than the scientific materialism story, which is that the entire sequence is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying absolutely nothing? Listen very carefully: just which of those two stories actually sounds totally insane?"

         ~ Ken Wilber, author, The Theory of Everything

The Three Magi, consulting the heavens to ascertain the Mystery of prophecies
from the Basillica of St. Apollinarius in Ravenna, Italy

"Mysticism" is derived from the Greek μυω, meaning "I conceal", and its derivative μυστικός, "mystikos" meaning 'an initiate'. The verb μυώ has received a quite different meaning in the Greek language, where it is still in use. The primary meanings it has are "induct" and "initiate". Secondary meanings include "introduce", "make someone aware of something", "train", "familiarize", "give first experience of something".

O Magnum Mysterium

Unholy Holidays

The holidays are upon us, but it seems like many are involved in holy wars over what feels sacred and nonnegotiable. Some are trying to just get through the holidays that bring added expectations, and the war plays itself out between the folds of a wallet opening and closing.

When holiday music gets piped into the stores, it’s not a song by Amy Winehouse. She’s dark, wounded and tragic. But during one of her hopeful moments she considered the idea of being her "own best friend". I like the way she describes her idea of what such a friend would be like in a song about her “man”. She's all in. Yet she switches pronouns between “him” “you” and “we”, which suggests to me that she’s not sure, even with millions of fans, if anyone is listening to her declaration of dedication, and if it matters to anyone but her. I wish she could have given this kind of fiercely loyal friendship to herself, because she might have lived to write more about what she held sacred. She only got a running start before she was overtaken, but I imagine she knew what we all need to remember during these uncertain times:

"The main thing is to be moved, to love, 

to hope, to tremble, and to live"

~ Auguste Rodin, sculptor

We all need a friend to be able to do the main thing. Treasure the ones you have, for they are more precious than the Internet of Things. And so are you, your own best friend, who stays with you, not to the year’s end, or the bitter end, but beyond any ending you could dream up.

 "The Thinker"

If my man was fighting

Some unholy war

I would be behind him

Straight shook up beside him

With strength he didn't know

It's you I'm fighting for

He can't lose with me in tow

I refuse to let him go

At his side and drunk on pride

When we wait for the blow

Put it in writing

But who you writing for?

Just us on kitchen floor

Justice done reciting
My stomach standing still

Like you're reading my will

He still stands in spite of what his scars say

I'll battle till this bitter finale

Just me, my dignity, and this guitar case, whoa, whoa

If, if my man is fighting some unholy war

And I will stand beside you

But who you dying for?

B, I would have died too

I'd have liked to

If my man was fighting

Some unholy war

If my man was fighting

A union found in hands "Cathedral" by Auguste Rodin, 19th Century