HeyJaredJourney of the Mystic
Through poetry and prose, I explore presence, passion, and the sacred unfolding of life. Rooted in mystical inquiry and erotic aliveness, my work is a ritual of remembrance and honest becoming.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 11
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- Sep 23, 2026
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- Jul 26, 2026
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The Nectar of Renunciation (opens the original)
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I came into the silencewith empty hands,and the silence beganto empty me.One by one,the names I had given myselffell like dry leaves.Who am Iwhen no one is asking?Who am Iwhen nothing needs to be defended?I walked beneath the treesand felt something ancientmoving without effort.The birds did not knowthey were being watched.The ducks did not wonderif they were enough.The squirrel carried its small treasureand disappeared into the green.Everything was giving itselfentirely to this moment.And I tho
The Village Within Us (opens the original)
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I have been thinking about the village,about the old wisdom of many livesgathered close enoughto hear one another breathe,to know the rhythm of the householdby the movement of many footsteps.Courtyards filled with voices,children moving through many doors,bread passing from hand to hand,elders resting within the circle,each person carrying a small portionof what belonged to everyone.Perhaps this was one of the first medicines:to wake each morningalready belonging somewhere,to have a place at the
The Girl Who Heard the Unseen (opens the original)
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There was a little girlwho sensed that the visible worldwas only a thin veilover something infinitely larger.She felt things before she understood them.A presence.A vibration.A color around a person.A knowing that arrivedwithout knocking.At night, her dreamssometimes opened into tomorrow.She would wake with the strange feelingthat she had traveled somewhereand brought something back.So she began to search.She found Blavatskyand the hidden architecture of the universe.She found Rumiand discovered
Awareness Becomes a Lantern (opens the original)
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I sit because meditation awakensthe quiet art of right action,beginning in how I speak,how I listen,how I pause,and how I allow life to unfoldwithout my grasp upon its reins.I sit because sitting softens the soul,loosening the brittle skinsof anger, stress, ancient anxiety,and unnamed griefs,until something gentlerhas room to breathe.I sit to become intimatewith the smallest movements of life:a breath,a glance,a falling leaf.To sit long enoughto witness what moves through mewithout needing to be
You Arrive as Magic (opens the original)
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How quickly my body remembershow to soften in your presence,as though some ancient part of mehas been waiting for the sound of your arrivalto finally unclench its handsfrom around the world.Beside you, I do not have to know the way.I find myself trusting the journeybecause you carry such a keen knowingof how to navigate the unseen roads.You move through lifewith a tenderness toward human hearts,as though every person deservesthe mercy of being understood.You believe people are doing their best,a
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