A sense of Mystery can take us beyond disappointment and judgment to a place of expectancy. It opens in us an attitude of listening and respect. If everyone has in them the dimension of the unknown, possibility is present at all times. . . . Knowing this enables us to listen to life from the place in us that is Mystery also. Mystery requires that we relinquish an endless search for answers and become willing to not understand. . . . Perhaps real wisdom lies in not seeking answers at all. Any answer we find will not be true for long. An answer is a place where we can fall asleep as life moves past us to its next question. After all these years, I have begun to wonder if the secret of living well is not in having all the answers but in pursuing unanswerable questions in good company.
My heart is solitary now.
It finds no companionship anywhere
And no wish to find any.
My sole desire is You,
And You are always absent.
Can one love absence so intensely
That even your presence
Seems like an intrusion?
I move around in aimless circles.
Rituals and sacred symbols,
Once treasured symbols of relating to You
Are meaningless to me now.
They communicate nothing of You,
Who are everything to me
But for whom and from whom I feel no love,
Nor hope of fulfillment.
I am as one turned inside out,
And there is nothing there — not You, not me.
If this is union, there is neither two in One,
Nor One without another.
I long to relate to everyone,
Yet lack the capacity to relate to anyone.
There is only your boundless presence,
That treats me like a thing without a heart,
Except perhaps a broken heart.
For the God I thought I knew
No longer exists
It finds no companionship anywhere
And no wish to find any.
My sole desire is You,
And You are always absent.
Can one love absence so intensely
That even your presence
Seems like an intrusion?
I move around in aimless circles.
Rituals and sacred symbols,
Once treasured symbols of relating to You
Are meaningless to me now.
They communicate nothing of You,
Who are everything to me
But for whom and from whom I feel no love,
Nor hope of fulfillment.
I am as one turned inside out,
And there is nothing there — not You, not me.
If this is union, there is neither two in One,
Nor One without another.
I long to relate to everyone,
Yet lack the capacity to relate to anyone.
There is only your boundless presence,
That treats me like a thing without a heart,
Except perhaps a broken heart.
For the God I thought I knew
No longer exists