Hallelujah

Maybe there’s a God above
But all I’ve ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
It’s not a cry you can hear at night
It’s not somebody who has seen the light
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah

Leonard Cohen

What is the difference between a romantic and a mystic? Is there any?

A few years back, I was seeing a talented psychic and spiritual teacher through a bad heartbreak. In matters of the own heart, being psychic proves no defense. One day, in the midst of tears, she sobbed, “The truth is, I love God the most”. We both took a deep breath and then simultaneously broke into laughter. Eventually this turned to tears all around. Laughing and crying are the same release. Together, they are divine.

Could it be that every love affair is with God in some aspect or other? Could it be that every broken heart resides in the same place as the mystic’s Dark Night of the Soul?

I am relentlessly romantic. And a mystic. And a Pagan. I guess I do love God the most, and I see her everywhere. In my clients, my garden, my child, my friends, the wild coast, and of course, in every person I have passionately kissed.

And, when break-ups have happened, especially those not of my choosing, it has been a break up with God herself. And… paradoxically, she presents herself all over the place eventually to give comfort. The Divine turns out to be the rebound lover of this lifetime.

This struck me hard listening to Joni Mitchell’s Blue album the other day, the album that has been a musical cornerstone of my life. It consoled me thru the 6 week trek through Europe with my 12 year old sister that I did at 15 – sans parents or adults. I don’t even think I ever had opportunity to play it, but it stood up in my suitcase lid every night, my first altar. I’ve played it over and over every time I have fallen in love, and every time I have been hurt by love.

What is it about that album? Move over, Rumi and Hafiz….. Joni’s songs have indeed been tattoos, each etching under my skin some element of the dance with the Beloved, the journey of mystic and romantic, those of us who want to drink a case of the divine and still be on our feet, rejoicing.

Do all romantics and mystics meet the same fate someday? Pretty much all have to go through the dark café days, yes. The Beloved will eventually disappear or disappoint, or we will ourselves walk away. The fracturing of the heart pulls the dark cocoon around us, and yet, on that lonely road we travel, if we pay attention, we meet the Beloved again and again.

Loving the Divine does not mean you don’t get your heart broken. You do. But, sometimes, when you least expect it, the dark cocoon of emptiness erupts and gorgeous wings appear.

And even if they don’t, a true romantic and mystic will still be able to eek out Hallelujah. And sometimes sing it.

Have I told you how much I love Joni and Leonard? They are simply and complexly divine.