Mystical Experiences

I’ve heard it said by mystics that the best way to imagine our relationship with god is to imagine a small circle on the inside of a very large circle.  To be clear, we humans are the small circle, god is the large circle.  We are quite literally encircled by god, from the inside out.  So when I see someone looking upward at the sky saying “why god?,” I think, couldn’t you just as easily look down? Look left or right? Or just close your eyes? 

I have always liked the image of the circles because it is such a simple reflection of my own growing theology.  But I must admit, it has been few and far between that I trulyfelt myself in communion with god.  I’ve intuited so much.  And my heart tells me this is so.  But I’ve always been just short of the sensation of that held, embodying quality.  And craving it does not seem to help you get closer to the source in case you wondered…

On last Sunday, though, I felt it.  I felt god.  In me and around me.  I close my eyes now as I write, and the sensation stirs in me again.  It makes me want to cry…

The experience happened in a yoga class, though I suspect it could have been anywhere where you have been intentionally cultivating a unified relationship with god.  For me, that is in church, in my work, in my parenting, in my relationships and on the yoga mat.

I have to tell you though, I worry about writing and sharing about such moments.  The words “wack-a-doodle” and flakey start to come to mind which is a reflection of  my own internalized judgmental critic of spiritual and religious people.  The part of me that is still embarrassed by my own faith; wanting to shamefully break eye contact when the subject of god comes up in conversation.  Not that I generally let it….

There is a Rabbi named Lawrence Kushner who was interviewed on my favorite NPR show, “On Being.” He is an expert on Jewish mysticism, Kabballah, who said on the topic of sharing mystical experiences: "You don't get invited to dinner parties if you start talking that way."  I thought that was very funny.  And maybe it is not true for certain parts of the world or certain parts of the United States, or celebrities like Madonna.  But in liberal Waspy New England, I would say it is.  Being a heretic here seems to be anyone who is nonsecular, not the other way around.

Yet, I felt it.  I felt that experience of what Rabbi Kushner called “the suspicion that the brokenness, discord & discontinuities of everyday life conceal a hidden unity.” And then, for just a moment, on that yoga mat, the sensation that I, to paraphrase Kushner, have been all along a dimension of the divine which was reflected in the spiritual awareness that the boundary was momentarily erased between god and me.

I have this urge to apologize here or maybe minimize the experience to sound more intellectual and less “out there.”  Because to meet me you would think this woman is such a Type A personality, and I am.  I guess god just embraces us all.  So I will do neither.  I will continue, and I will describe how it felt.

The sensation was a soft, warmth.  It was like a deep, penetrating calm.  Not a I’m-not-anxious-right-now-calm.  Something different and more central and stable having nothing to do with how I was feeling or my mood at the time which all seems more superficial or at least too fluid somehow.  This experience was more like connecting to something that has always existed.

I’ve heard people use the analogy of the depths of the ocean or other bodies of water to describe the potential of mindfulness meditation.  Jon Kabat Zinn does in his book I posted about the other day Everyday Blessings in the chapter “The Eighteen Year Retreat.” The top of the water is like the mind and subject to all the weather conditions of the day including calm seas with brilliant sunshine to dark hurricane conditions.  But underneath, underneath is the jewel.  Always there. Always available to us no matter what the mind state.

This analogy has always worked for me because since I was a girl learning how to swim at Girl Scout camp each summer, I have loved swimming underwater.  Standing in an ocean, a pool, a river and taking a huge breath in, jumping up just a little bit, and then diving down head first only to stay underneath as long as I can possibly hold my breath.  My favorite swimming quarters has always been lakes though.  Clean, clear freshwater lakes allows me to open my eyes, which is hard to in the salty ocean or a chlorinated pool.  I prefer to actually see the calm and hearthe quiet that lies beneath the surface.  In fact, I have always found it very reassuring. 

Until recently though, I never really knew what I was reassured of.  I think I do now.  Faith. Faith that no matter what is going on up here, on the material level that is my day to day, you are always quietly holding me, surrounding me with your knowing calm.  I forget that.  Multiple times a day in fact, and so my burgeoning faith requires still daily reminders.

The experience on the yoga mat was not just a reminder though, it was the real deal.  And even if it means I won’t be invited to dinner parties anytime soon, I will say, I find so much solace, even now sitting at my computer, to pause, close my eyes and refocus my attention on that sensation of god.

So I must ask you, have you ever truly experienced the sensation of god? I won’t tell anyone…