Hmmm...some may not care for my response here, but I haven't let that stop me yet.
In my little world (the one that I wake up to everyday, and fall asleep from every night) I try to keep the boundary between the mundane and the sacred as non-existent as possible. This is to say that "revelation," to me, might be as profound as a huge life changing voice booming in my head, to something as simple as deciding what I want for dinner. I am not being flippant here. Revelation, from my perspective, is something that guides you or prompts you, to a certain course of action (and that can include nonaction).
Also, the neatest types of revelations are the ones that are unspoken and without any intellectual/rational content; by that I mean they are a purely emotional/sensory. About six years ago, in the dead of a cold winter's night, I was on the way home from a friend's house. We'd been hanging around doing a whole lot of nothing (maybe playing cards or some such time eater). I was walking across the small downtown of the small city I lived in at the time, and I was approaching the building which contained my apartment. All of a sudden I felt a very odd and unknown sensation sweeping over me. I don't know how to describe it, apart from to wrap it in words that don't really represent what it was (but here are some words that were kinda' like it): bliss, absolute happiness, the most beautiful of beauties, peace, pure contentment. What did occur, was that I stopped dead in my tracks, and looked into--somewhere--and I had the biggest smile on face while the tears rolled down my cheeks. Those tears were practically freezing due to the manipulations of the cold wind and blowing snow of that winter night, but the cold, the wind, and every other annoying thing didn't matter one damn bit.
That was one of my most precious moments of revelation and it doesn’t matter one damn bit!
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