mys·ti·cism: n. A belief in the existence of realities beyond perceptual or intellectual apprehension that are central to being and directly accessible by subjective experience.
If we are to define fate as:
1. The supposed force, principle, or power that predetermines events or
2. The inevitable events predestined by this force,
then I would have to say that I'm not a true believer in the literal meaning of the word fate. Humans aren't, IMHO, a collection of puppets on strings, constantly moved by a Giant Puppet Master in the sky, victims to the will of the Master. We are each where we are today because of a series of choices that we made.
What I mean by "fate" (and "fate" isn't really the word I'm looking for) has to do with this feeling I get that we’re part of something greater, something that's so much a part of the fabric of our lives, that we don't even recognize it.
I don't know how to articulate this idea, any more than I can articulate what it means to be in love, any more than I can speak of my foggy dreams after a restless night, any more than I can speak of the soul, or the universe, or what it means to pray.
Rather than a drop of water on the Puppet Master’s table, I am a drop of water in a great river across time; I flow with it. What I believe has to do with harmony and trust and inner guidance: a sense of peace that comes from a source other than myself.
I want to remain open to the possibility that I exist as the breath of a great Mystery, something much, much bigger than us all; something that comes before us and continues after us. It has to do with the stars and the universe, and I feel I will never figure it out any more than Einstein did (and god knows he tried.)
I am fascinated with cosmology and quantum mechanics; I also read the writings of the poets and the saints and the mystics. Must the historical division between the scientists and the mystics continue to widen, or is there a place all could meet, recognizing we could learn so much from each other?
People ask me if I'm religious. I usually say, "Not in the traditional sense. I'm more of a "bohemian god-seeker" (to use a friend's term). I think I'll start calling myself a mystic, instead, since so many people get hung up on the word "god" these days.
After the bombs went off at a supermarket that I frequent, after learning that friends were late to the World Trade Center because they missed the bus and thus their lives were saved on 9/11, and after Expat Nomad's escape from (what I now know is a harmless) fire, I can’t help but be reminded about how fragile this life is… how tenuous our existence. My favorite film director, Krzysztof Kieslowski, says“…every day we're faced with a choice which could end our entire life yet of which we're completely unaware."