How best to describe a mystic?

The mystical life is a process.  It's a journey. 

I know.  You're probably yawning.  And your eyes have glazed over.  

This kind of language is admittedly airy-fairy and overused.   Trust me.  I tried really hard to come up with a more creative way to describe the mystical life but I kept coming back to process...and journey...because, well, that's what it is.

Physically and spiritually, everyone starts in one place and ends in another.  If you're not growing, you're not living.  Sadly, a lot of people don't experience much in their spiritual lives.  I think this is because they're just not looking for the spiritual.  They are blind to the inner life that manifests itself in the experience of living.  All they have to do is open their eyes (yet another tired cliché) and connect the inner with the outer and - voila! - a mystic is born.

Case in point.    

A couple of days ago my 16 yr old grandson, Jack, told me that he had had yet another taste of what we call the "Job" effect - the "why does God let bad things happen to good people" dilemma.  *His first taste of the "Job" effect was when his mother, my daughter, died three years ago. 

Jack recounted that his close friends decided to drink at a party the night before.  They then proceeded to get in their car to drive to another party.  My grandson called them out on the drinking and driving danger and apparently a very large argument ensued, after which the group left the party.  My grandson got a ride home with someone who hadn't been drinking.   

While I was sitting there quietly trying very, very hard not to freak out, Jack said that while he had been humiliated in front of a large group of his peers, and most likely lost his friends, he didn't feel like it was the end of the world.

I calmed down enough to listen to what he had to say.

Jack told me that he felt broken and bruised.  Like Job.  And like Job, he believed in God but now his faith had been tested.  Jack said he didn't know why this bad thing had happened to him when he had done the right thing but he would "go deep," he said.  He would wait for God until it was time for him to understand.  Like Job, he would continue to have faith in God.  Even when it was hard. 

I sat there.  Speechless.  Which is really strange as my nickname at home is "two cent" as I can't let much pass without a comment.  My bad.

So Jack turned to me and said, "what do you think?" because he fully expected I'd say something.  Of course.

I said, "you're on a journey.  It's all a process."

He smiled and said, "thanks."

I'm happy to know that he's a budding mystic.  Life will be just a little easier for him and far richer for the understanding.   I hope he'll continue to share his journey with me.  I hope I get to see the process unfold in him.

Yes. Sometimes the best word is the right word.