I no longer feel the need to write. I feel the need to contemplate. Pray. Allow the Divine in through everyday experience. Whether good or bad. Just to remain present, or with what has been called mindfulness. When I wash my hands, I notice the soap and water only. When I cook dinner, I pay attention to the smells and effort of it all. When I eat, I sit at the table in silence, tasting. Simply that.
I have found a new teacher and I am completely in love with him. He explains what the books I have been pouring over for the past two years mean. He comforts those of us who have been lost in the mystical experience, and breaks down the writings of the monks and nuns into relative terms. He speaks of God being in love with us. And our souls being in love with God. The Beloved and the lover. We are only lost in the illusion of life. He speaks of aridities and consolations. How not to be afraid and bereft when they are gifted and then taken away. And finally, he shares his life’s work; consoling the mystic who is confused by the experiences that he or she is having in this present time.
I was introduced to this modern mystic on July 5th, just two days ago, and synchronistically one year to the day that I started this journal. My times of doubt are no longer a threat, so this writing could fall by the wayside. My feelings acknowledged and my heart’s worries contended. Yes, this is what Jim Finely is giving me. A reason, a concrete reason, that I no longer need to be afraid. Not of my experiences. Not of them being taken away. There is a path, and I am on it. I have been called, but needn’t do anything. And most importantly, right now, I am being taught how to pray correctly at the contemplative level.