Lots more folks are aiming to become more enlightened, more spiritual in the way they conduct their lives. I worry about that being another way to become less connected to the day to day world and the people who inhabit it with us. Here is a poem from Jill Stein, a favorite of mine who doesn't publish much, because she doesn't want to for some reason or another. But when she does, her poems are very worth reading.
The way I know I’m not enlightened
I want to be specific.
Particulars appeal to me
in all their inconvenience.
For instance, I’d rather struggle
with my collapsing body with its poor design
than melt into the glory of the void
and lose my chance
to camp out on the bed beside you,
every night digging up
old cartoons, sitcoms themes,
Ipana toothpaste, Wagon Train,
Zydeco, Wagner, and Leslie Gore
its my party and I’ll cry if I want to...
resentfully succumbing to
that pull to sleep at 2 am.
Small comfort we’d be swirling
in that same cosmic soup,
two bubbles aglow in a vast scintillating sky.
Oh no, Its just too big out there.
I might not find you.
I'd rather bump against your separate incarnation
beside me in the darkness,
grumbling about your snoring,
a tugboat bringing me each morning
to the welcoming, familiar shore.