The Glorious Mistakes

"It's not like that," my gurus say to me from various distances as they listen to my mind stretch, suspect, and seek to understand what is around me. I feel their trying to convey my partial picture is a sliver that reveals a direction that misleads. I stir, I simplify, I reach, and find a path cluttered with weeds and several stunning and intended plants. I tiptoe along, unable to discern among the routine growth and glorious mistakes. Is every spiritual discovery this way, some magic I could not have found or made? Decades of my life included memorizing the Latin Mass and finding truth in sound more than translation. I host myself amid what seems clutter versus arrangements of reality as I am learning it.  

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