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| William James (1842-1910) |
Yesterday, I referred to myself as "
of a mystical bent." Admitting this surprised me as much as quoting Rilke; I hadn't meant to get into anything like that.
Maybe I'm ready to try to say what
spirituality (or
being spiritual) means for me?
Phrases like
reverence for life [
Albert Schweitzer],
benevolence toward the humblest living creature [
Charles Darwin],
practice compassion [
Dalai Lama], and
The earth does not belong to us; we belong to the earth [
Chief Seattle] come to mind.
What can I say? Dwelling on such concepts in the awareness of nature and of our life on Earth casts a sort of
numinous spell over me, a feeling that resonates with
William James's characterization of
mystical experience as "a deepened sense of significance." And, even when I'm not "having the experience," I try to maintain an abiding sense of the deep significance of things, the deep significance of choices and actions.
James even excuses my inability to say much about this deep sense: "There is ineffability: the subject of a mystical experience cannot find words to describe it."
Rainer Maria Rilke came close, very close indeed, in his
Duino Elegies and other writings:
Silent friend of many distances, feel
how your breath enlarges all of space.
Let your presence ring out like a bell
into the night. What feeds upon your face
grows mighty from the nourishment thus offered.
Move through transformation, out and in.
What is the deepest loss that you have suffered?
If drinking is bitter, change yourself to wine.
In this immeasurable darkness, be the power
that rounds your senses in their magic ring,
the sense of their mysterious encounter.
And if the earthly no longer knows your name,
whisper to the silent earth: I'm flowing.
To the flashing water say: I am.
[–Sonnets to Orpheus, XXIX, Stephen Mitchell's translation]
