When a present day mystic walks the earth.

I once had a fellow compatriot.

We were working in the same field.

She was far ahead of the game.

Gaining notoriety, fame and fortune.

I was a beginner, humble in my humble beginnings.

I told her, “I am so happy for you.”

In my mind, I saw her scaling the heights.

And was genuinely happy for her.

She read my message.

It came back to me, dressed with different clothes.

I looked at it, perplexed.

It was white and clean when I delivered it.

Why is it coming back to me, sullied and muddied?

I mulled over it.

How could she read it so wrong?

How could my words, so sincere, be read under such light?

The answer came to me only a few days ago.

The ways of a mystic are foreign to the ways of the world.

Walk up to a mystic and insult her in the face.

She will remain unfazed.

Not because she is perfect.

Because she operates from her genuine self.

Straightforward, honest, transparent.

As is.