In my neck of the non-woods almost everyone is basically pragmatic, sensible, well-grounded, realistic, grumbly at times, unimaginative, and essentially content.
Religion is fine, spirituality is suspect, and mysticism belongs in fiction stories.
Religion, to me, means ritual performances that may or may not have much, if any, impact on the lives of those who participate.
Spirituality, to me, means the individual connection each person has with the Maker.
Mysticism, to me, means pretty much what the term says: mystery. It’s a sacred and personal search, if you will, for that mysterious whatever it is that eludes us by definition (else it wouldn't be mysterious) yet abides in and with us at all times. The paradox only adds to the allure, and the inability to truly understand makes the quest that much more compelling.
A culture focused on pragmatism can and will make a place for a local nut, as long as said nut is a familiar face from decades back and can be classified as basically a Lutheran, a Baptist, a Catholic, a Seventh Day Adventist, or whatever.
Ah well, this nut is long familiar in this neck of the non-woods, and not offensive generally.
Besides, the only ones who are likely to have access to my inner nuttiness are the ones who bother to read my words, and that would be the few who know me better than anyone else … being INFJ is something they’ll at least have a basic comprehension of although I doubt many, if any, will really get what that means.
It’s a label to help others understand where I’m coming from.
And that’s neither here nor there I reckon.
This blog site is where the mystic things can find a home right along with religious and spiritual things, as to me they are pretty well integrated.
Dreams and/or moments of ‘something’ are so hard to wrap in words, even poetry … but I’ll try.
Call me weird; some things in life ARE weird.
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