Buckets of Grace
The beauty of a mystical experience lies in its spontaneous occurrence. While a person can train his or her mind in logic and reason, a mystical event cannot be predicted or called up at will. Visionaries develop methods of "seeing" that enable them to enter doors to the inner worlds with an evolved precision. A yogi can train and strain until the body contorts into a pretzel or some other astonishing position.
But a bone fide bucket of grace, that dumps evolutionary leaps of awareness into ones being, cannot be manufactured by practice - or will. True life cases in point:
An inveterate alcoholic drank a fifth of scotch every day, as well snorting a gram of cocaine, and had zero desire to become a sane, sober man. One day he woke up and before he could crack open his little vial of white powder on the night table, crystal clarity washed over him, as real as a shower of water. He looked at the actual crystals with no desire. His bottles of scotch remained unopened. From that day on he never touched any mind-altering substances because the compulsion had simply vanished.
A heroine addict was so suicidal that her husband had to tie her to the bed when he went out, to prevent her from jumping out of their fifth floor apartment window. But one day she dodged him and shot up. He found her unconscious and by the time she was lying on a hospital gurney, she was flatlining. But in her experience, she was bathed in effulgent light that gave her more bliss than any heroine high. She thought to herself, "I have to go back to tell Doug about this." And then the brain monitor started showing a glowing green wave pattern and she regained consciousness - with no desire to touch drugs and a full desire to live.
The stories are numerous, but one last tale is worth the telling. A Trappist monk, the head of his religious order, had been a pious and rigorous leader of his flock. Typical of most clergy, he was adept at following the dictates of his religion through Bible study, but his understanding had plateaued at that intellectual level. One day as he walking in the monastery garden, he blended into the sea of universality, transcending all religions and philosophies. He understood that all beings were one living, breathing presence, in essence swimming together in a sea of love. Although he remained a Trappist monk, he knew in his very bones that all the world religions and cultures converged into one point of light.
There can only be one conclusion. Anything is possible...and may we all have buckets of grace dumped on our heads in this lifetime!