The Everyday Mystic: A Return to Essence

“Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.”

Simone Weil

Waking Without Robes

I don’t believe most of us think of ourselves as mystics. I certainly don’t. I don’t walk around in robes or sandals, retreat to mountaintops, or speak in riddles.

I wake up, make my coffee, and quietly begin my day with some reflective writing, trying to stay present and connected to what’s going on around me. Even in those early morning hours, I know the world outside would rather I stay scattered.

But this start to my day—this time spent listening inward—reminds me that I’m fully capable of living mystically.

Not in a religious sense. Not even in a spiritual sense, necessarily. But in an attentive sense.

Contacting Essence

Can you pay attention to yourself long enough to notice those early moments you usually pass by?

That’s often where we first come into contact with something we’ve carried all along: our essence.

And when we do—everything shifts. Not outward, but deeply inward.

Maybe the trick isn’t finding it…

Maybe the real work is in learning how to feed it.

“The simple things are also the most extraordinary things, and only the wise can see them.”

Paulo Coelho

What is a Mystic?

So what does it actually mean to be a mystic?

For me, it means being attentive to what I can feel, not what I can measure. If I live “awake” and pay attention in the small moments, then I’m already living mystically. We all are.

Uncovering, Not Becoming

And essence? I don’t think it’s a concept. I believe it’s a feeling. Something we connect to during quiet moments: when we write, walk, make things, or notice how light moves across the room.

Essence isn’t something we become; it’s something we uncover. It’s like the scent of something slow-cooking, you don’t need to see it to know it’s there.

You feel it. You trust it.

“In every walk with nature, one receives far more than he seeks.”

John Muir

The Doorway of Self-Awareness

Self-awareness becomes the doorway. Small acts of attention—writing, silence, observation—bring us closer to who we really are.

These are the quiet practices of the everyday mystic. And through them, we begin to understand: the point isn’t perfection.

It’s recognition.

You won’t just stumble upon your essence. But with some intention, you can discover what it takes to feed it. Maybe it means remembering that your essence isn’t something you escape to—it’s something you bring into the world.

Showing Up Whole

There’s no escaping what we can’t control.

But living mystically means showing up anyway, with both feet, eyes open, and a quiet, comforting understanding of what matters most.

Even if it feels invisible, it’s still deeply, undeniably yours.

“Sometimes the most important thing in a whole day is the rest we take between two deep breaths.”

Etty Hillesum

Talk soon…

G