I experience myself as being 'haunted', 'lured', 'pursued', seduced by folly, over and over and over again. Nothing that can easily be named or described, of course (the ultimate other is far too tender and subtle for that) but the experiences add up to confirmation for me that the ultimate other is after me and, as an ingredient of the pursuit, has ideas about me, totally benign, trustworthy, authentic ideas that flow with unconditional, infinite love. To call them plans would be far too concrete - nothing about the experience of God can ever be that certain - that way danger and madness runs.
I’ve been reading Simon Small’s brief but rich book, From the Bottom of the Pond: The forgotten art of experiencing God in the depths of the present moment.
I was tempted, reading the Prologue, to post it in its entirety here, but that would contravene the publisher’s rights. Simon’s first sentence in the Prologue is:
“I rest at the centre of space. Unimaginably vast space everywhere I look, disappearing into the distance, seemingly without end.”
