7-03-2024 4:47am

The Wandering Mystic

Lesley Misko Editor

by Megan R. Bartlett

I have a confession to make: I talk to squirrels. If you happen to pass me while I’m out in the morning, you will no doubt hear me chatting with them: “Hello, darlings! Time for breakfast.” as I sprinkle sunflower seeds and walnut pieces on the ground under the trees. “Aren’t you beautiful?!”, I have said aloud to the multi-colored hydrangea with her blue, pink, and purple blooms or “What a lovely song!” to the white-throated sparrow. Hugging tree trunks, gently petting flower petals, and watching ants carry their hefty loads are regular occurrences for me.

As long as I can remember, I have communed with Divine Mystery through Nature, desiring to connect with all flora and fauna, feeling responsible to help ease Earth’s pain, and sensing my Oneness with all that exists – first in the farmlands in and around Bally and later in sun-dappled forests, by babbling creeks, and by ocean’s edge.

Since turning forty (nearly seven years ago!), family and friends having lovingly called me “St. Francis” because of the way animals in need seem to find me. There was the stray pit bull who ran into a Philadelphia street while I was stopped at a red light and looked right into my eyes through the window. (I obliged her unspoken request by opening my back door and she jumped right in, settling herself on the back seat.)

There was the gray domestic rabbit I found munching on grass by the creek who not only waited for me to go home and come back with a cat carrier, but hopped inside as if we were long lost friends. (“Murray” became a source of joy for many, as I fostered him in my two-bedroom apartment – with my two cats – until he found his forever home.)

Most recently, I boxed up an injured juvenile red-tailed hawk and drove him to a wildlife rehab center, talking to him the entire 45-minute drive. (I also may have talked to “St. Francis and all angels”, begging them to keep me safe from having my eyes pecked out by the raptor who grew increasingly restless inside that box behind my seat.)

While an affinity for Nature is something many people experience, for me, this sympathy has evolved into my primary way of recognizing the Divine within me; when animals and plants respond to me, my ego could certainly claim, “I just have a way with Nature”. Instead, my spirit knows that it is simply the Divine in them recognizing the Divine in me. This attunement is the fertile ground from which my heart awakens to what matters most, a source of everyday mysticism that has given me glimpses of how I am called to live my “one wild and precious life”, as poet Mary Oliver invites us to ponder.

If words like “spirit”, “Divine”, and “mysticism” make you cringe, I hope you will simply notice this resistance and keep reading. For modern day Christian mystic James Finley,* mysticism is simply “a quiet, prayerful pondering about who we deep down really are and are called to be and how we can be more faithful to it.”

Through a series of articles, I will share five simple ways to cultivate mysticism in your daily life, right here in the Boyertown area by connecting with Nature, seeking solitude and silence, learning about other mystics, cultivating generosity, and practicing letting go. Wander with me as we awaken to the Ultimate Reality that exists within all of us.

[ All photos by Megan Bartlett.]

*https://cac.org/daily-meditations/exploring-the-mystics-with-james-finley-weekly-summary-2017-10-14/

Megan R. Bartlett is a ’95 BASH alum who now lives in the Philadelphia area. She is a licensed professional counselor and certified spiritual director who enjoys crafting, writing, and communing with Nature, especially her beloved cats.