Yes, my dears, today I feel like reflecting on that beautiful word mystery. On how we can experience it in our rather hyper and seemingly enlightened 21st century lives.
How can we experience the beauty of mystery, beyond all the old constructs that may no longer ring true to us? Because, in truth, the old ways may feel tired, or loaded, or may trigger us in whatever ways.
Indeed, despite my personal version of all that, mystery matters to me. Though my own beliefs tend toward the existential, I want—and more, I need—to stay connected to the part of me that marveled at life as a child. Children naturally see mystery in everything. Their imaginations are finely tuned to receive the mysterious, to interpret life in mysterious ways. In turn, that way of experiencing life keeps the fires of their imaginations burning.
Adult life is dealing with an enormous
amount of questions that don’t
have answers. So I let the mystery
settle into my music.
Cut to now, 61 years into my own life journey. I’ve marked junctures like the ecstasy of birthing my three sons, and the dark beauty of witnessing my mother’s death as its own rather miraculous rite of passage. In fact, the birth of my first son and the death of my mother 38 years later feel like bookends in my adult experiences of mystery so far. Because the unexpected truth is that I left my family’s vigil for my mother with more of a sense of the mysteriousness of life than ever.