MYSTICAL SERENITY

When a man reaches the pinnacle of love, he descends simultaneously to the deepest abyss of suffering.

Pain and love are related concepts, i.e., they are the two poles on which all the superior life revolves.

Painful love gives the soul the most intense clairvoyance of which it is able.

At the height of this spiritual sensitivity, a man reaches the mystical zone of great intuitions, which have no name in the human vocabulary.

This state is essentially anonymous.

God is the anonymous king - and that is why men give it so many names because none of them defines the indefinable.

Paul of Tarsus tried to define the anonymous state of a man immersed in the atmosphere of the indefinable Divinity, but ended up confessing that what he had heard were “unspeakable words”, too sacred to be revealed...

St. Augustine sought to attain the intangible – he did not resist and discouraged, groaning under the weight of his incompetence.

Teresa of Ávila, John of the Cross, Meister Eckhart, and so many others speak in “luminous darkness”, in “sonorous solitude”, in the “silent desert of Divinity”, in the “vacuum of plenitude”, and other paradoxes saying nothing, which everyone tries to decipher...

One of these inebriated of the Deity even goes so far as to say that this mystical state is a “disborn” - and this word is one of the happiest and truest.

By birth, man materializes - it is necessary to “disborn” to matter to be reborn to the spirit.

To be born, to “disborn”, to be reborn - this is the clearest biographical summary of the spiritual man.

In the most sublime mystical intuition, man no longer thinks of God - he is integrated into the silent Deity, just as a drop of water is diluted in a goblet of wine.

He lives saturated with God, just like a sponge thrown into the sea.

He emigrated from himself - and immigrated into God...

Even the external aspect of man appears different; even if he does not want to and does not know it, his soul is reflected in his countenance, his gestures, his gaze, his voice, his whole attitude...

His gaze acquires something vague, distant, neutral... Does not fix his eyes at things anymore... Does not look at them with interest... Just glides on them as he caresses them with his pupils.

The spiritualized and mystical man hates no creature - nor does he fall in love with no one...

He passes through the world with an aura of serene benevolence, neutral, colourless, brushing lightly like a feather the surface of things around him - things that to the profane man have nothing to do with the coveted target of the daily struggle...

His soul is like the calm surface of a lake which does nothing but reflects the brightness of the sun and the blue of the sky, soul that rises to the heights to the encounter with the great star, evaporating imperceptibly...

So, it is the spiritual and mystical man, when he enters the atmosphere of the anonymous Deity...