When I was a teenager, I was deeply Christian. I was more interested in the mysticism of Christianity than the dogma, a concept that holds true to this day. I was more interested in interacting with God directly that deciding about heaven or hell, deciding about the path of people of other religions or deciding how I should live.

This consumes far too much energy and time. There are other problems in need of focus, I say.

What is more interesting and important was a sense of my own divinity. A sense of my universal meaning. How, I, mattered beyond waking up each day with the banalities of taking showers, eating food, and walking around. Perhaps those things are not as interesting as a divine sense of life or a purposefulness untied with production, identity, or belief.

Of a more generous attitude towards the universe is simply what is to me. I remain tied to the idea that we live in a friendly universe of an ongoing scientific miracle, allowing us the small change of existing at all.

The young mystical life in me reflected on the idea that I could reach out and access a transcendentalism far apart of my own breakfast. This has continued with an ongoing sense of gift I feel as I write this.