How spiritual feelings feel like?

[donq]

[note-This post is rather long. Sorry. I'm kind of in a thinking mood. Apologies for any errors.]

First, let me talk about worldly feelings. When I was a teenager, I like to read wuxia (kung fu/martial arts) novels. One of my favorite writers was Gu Long (1938 –1985). Here's from his preface on one of his novels, the white jade tiger:
[note-I'm doing a translation of translation here. From the book that already was translated from Chinese into my native language.]

Lives in wuxia (martial arts) world are like the dried leaves in the wind, the duckweed on the water. They cannot be themselves or of themselves.
There are so many things they want to do but cannot.
There are so many things they don't want to do, but have to.
This is because they have to hold to the principles, the morals, or they cannot mingle with the world anymore.
Their lives seem to be so colorful. Full of risk and danger but also full of thrill and excitement.
Many people hate them, some admire them or even being jealous because they seem to always do anything they think they are right, no matter what others think...
Still, that's only one side of it. There's still another side, the painful/bitter ones and the loneliness.
Late in the night, everything is so silent, waking up and find a person sleeping next to them is someone they don't even know his/her name.
After the sound of big hails and praises, going home alone. Then, sitting in the dark, close to the windows, just hope it will be dawn so soon.
Have you ever thought about those kinds of feelings?
Tonight is so cheerful, success in every way, but they still don't know where they will be tomorrow. Even don't know where they will get drunk that night?
Willows' branches are tenderly dancing.
Dawning gently breeze caress the hanging stars.
Though it's a very beautiful picture but so cold, heart-wrenching, and depressing, isn't it?
You really want that kind of flavor?

And now, back to spiritual feelings
As for me, after getting older, in life, I believe we have to learn to be back to simple. And I think dealing with anything in life is like dealing with hiccups. It seems the more you want it to go away, it will stay longer. Only if you don't think about it, then, it will naturally go away by itself, or even faster than you ever thought.
The trick (I've used this word lightly here) if you think you can do something, then, you may, or you may not be able to do it. Still, the important thing is there will be a strong probability that you can do it, if you think you can. On the contrary, if you think you could not do it, you will lose that probability immediately, and it's kind of sure that you will not be able to do it.
One important thing I learned after being in my spiritual path for 40 years is being back to normal/simple is the best. Spirituality doesn't make you become more than who you are. Many novices made this big mistake a lot. Let me quote from Zen here:

“Before one studies Zen, mountains are mountains and waters are waters; after a first glimpse into the truth of Zen, mountains are no longer mountains and waters are no longer waters; after enlightenment, mountains are once again mountains and waters once again waters.”
― Dōgen

One of my favorite Chinese poets is Su Shi (1037–1101). Yes, he was so good at his works. But when he came in contact with spirituality (religion) here was his feeling (I quote here from some books):

...The following pair of poems was written in 1072. Su, who was out of town on official business, stopped for the
night at a Buddhist temple, where he penned the poems, probably because Su felt he would appreciate their mood of stillness and solitude.

Grasses hide the riverbanks, rain obscures the villages.
The temple hides among the slender bamboo: is there a
gate?
Gathering kindling, boiling herbs: I pity the monks who
are ill.
Sweeping the ground, burning incense to purify this guest's
spirit.
The farm work not yet done and already a bit of snow has
crept in.
The altar light has just been lit announcing the yellow
dusk,
As the years go by I slowly understand the flavor of solitary
life,
And long to sit with you, good sir, on facing mats and talk
about it.
.....
I have often begrudged bells and drums disturbing the
lakeside hills,
But here in this solitary and secluded place, it seems quite
natural.
Alms rounds in the village can truly provide enough to fill
one's belly,
But facing the guest without saying a word is not necessarily
Ch'an. (Zen)
Looking for the path in, I had to beat my way through
brush and mud:
I wash my feet, close the doors, and fall asleep to the sound
of rain.
I imagine that in a previous life you were the impoverished
Chia Tho (a monk there),
Shrugging his shoulders against the night chill and writing a
poem.

[gruntal]

I wonder, the last day of the your life and the last life before you ascended, what you would be ? A General, a Billionaire, A great philanthropist, a great leader ? Or assuming you needed something beyond the physical to ascend would you just do or be nothing special just but breathe cool fresh air and smell the roses and stare at the night sky and say to yourself " I paid my dues but this is as good as it gets " .

[donq]

Hi George,

You wonder the similar thing as Su Shi did. Here it is:

“Have you really understood the water and the moon?...The one streams past so swiftly yet is never gone; the other for ever waxes and wanes yet finally has never grown nor diminished. For if you look at the aspect which changes, heaven and earth cannot last for one blink; but if you look at the aspect which is changeless, the worlds within and outside you are both inexhaustible, and what reasons have you to envy anything?

"Moreover, each thing between heaven and earth has its owner, and even one hair which is not mine I can never make part of me. Only the cool wind on the river, or the full moon in the mountains, caught by the ear becomes a sound, or met by the eye changes to colour; no one forbids me to make it mine, no limit is set to the use of it; this is the inexhaustible treasury of the creator of things, and you and I can share in the joy of it.”

-from The Red Cliff, I

P.S. I always appreciate your response.