It is both remarkable and wonderful that powerful experiences can recur, and yet remain powerful, or even, take a step closer to perfection. One of these happened recently. I was working outdoors on a warm, windy, arid day in the American Southwest.
I wish I had looked at the thermometer. It was probably only 70 F or so. But the sun was oppressive. Maybe I hadn't drunk enough water on the mountain bike ride, earlier in the morning.
Just then, a cloud blocked the sun. The temperature seemed to fall by 15 F -- instantly. I wanted to fall down, upon my knees, and pray to almighty Somebody-or-Other for their Divine Mercy. OK, so I am milking the act a little here -- but not by very much!
A modern secularist, under the right conditions, has the same instincts that their ancestors had, centuries, or even millennia, ago. If they think they are vastly superior to their ancestors, it is only because of their soft, comfortable, secure, and insipid existence. They need only experience some Noble Suffering to experience life with the zest of their ancestors.
My reaction was so alive compared to reading a bookshelf of useless lumber about the history of religions. Why don't we learn to ignore the wordy authors of the world?
Not only did I want to worship some pagan nature-god, I even wanted to invent my own. I call her Santa Sombra. (shade) That makes Her sound catholic, though. But maybe that is appropriate, considering the historical background of the American Southwest.