Why I do what I do

Tell me now and do not delay. Do not dance with words like you do, tipping toes along written notes, expressing the steam that builds from inner heat. Tell me why you are the way you are. Tell me what drives you to the mystic’s route.

As a Roman Catholic I am fond of tradition and I enjoy the mystical spirituality of sacred moments of will woven intellect invoking powers beyond the human’s nature. I receive the Eucharist in full faith, believing and knowing it is good. There are other features that go along with this religion, but that is not why I have chosen to sit down and write.

What drives me to mysticism, and what do I hope to accomplish? How can I justify the arts of spirit I seek and practice when already the fullness of the Lord is revealed in Christ, made manifest in his Church, requiring only to proclaim the gospel and to love thy neighbor in the spirit of his holy name — a name unspeakable yet named, and when spoken is motion, eternally begetting itself in truth.

It makes me human, and humanity I crave. It is like a sickness of love that constantly pulls away only for the joy to return. Let me not sin in my search for words. Let me not stray from the path as I make a narrow way from here to what I want to say, creating newness by the grace of Love itself.

It is enough to stay. I am different. I am special. I want more and the power to do more I have. For I was given much and more I shall receive. Ever-hunger ever-thirst, the constant search, I seek and find and am satisfied; again and again I’m sent, going and never content.

The hidden Lord reveals to those with eyes to see, and innumerable ways await, eternity beyond every gate. Heresy I embrace, and doubt I do not hate. In such as these the Lord awaits before shadows in the forms that take themselves away, confident and unshaken, certain of their fate, truth in their grasp to shine by the very light they’ve found inside. They live their Self and in the darkness they are, anguished presence accosted by the void, chaos at every face, and still they hold their place. Lights in darkness alone, bearing truth for those with eyes to see.

In pain I learned our fate. Tasting death I found escape. Guiltless I ran outside the gate, and became myself, learning what it means to hate. Hatred I knew and hatred I became, all at once to give it all away. It was a bitter cup to drink, but such tastes fade away, and stronger than blood came redeeming love, the truth of Christ the gate, who lets us stray for our own sake, no matter how far or how grave.

It wasn’t for a fault. It wasn’t given all to rot. There is purpose in every form; in every word the Creator spake.

So why then do I seek, what do I hope to accomplish, and what can I hope to do? Did not the Terror itself teach you the truth already? Do not dare lead others away! Do not give sin for others to say! Nay, it is not for Satan that I am in darkness where I am, for there is only one master that I serve.

I have come all this way and will go further still. Beyond the veil of death my journey goes; for she the rest, who is God, Sophia, Wisdom, One; that alone which is worthwhile, the very source for which all time is piled.

Child of the void draw near. Do not listen to me for who I am, or see the form from which I stand on fingertips from callused hands. Let me teach you what cannot be taught. That is why I do what I do. That is why I tie the mystic’s knot. There are souls like me, who can learn to see. Souls like mine, treasured by the divine, unforgotten and remembered, reminded and embraced.

A torch of love ignites another and burns brightly just the same.

For you I’ve come to give a light. A special kind of wine, for a special kind of night.