Dear Friends ~ October, at the heart of chilly autumn, is an intricate, nuanced, bittersweet time. The glory of shimmering trees, outrageous sunsets, invigorating winds, the scent of apples and rich mulch, the gratitude and joy of the harvest feast twines with oncoming darkness, falling leaves, the sense of letting go and passing on, the ephemeral nature of everything. Particularly now when so much in our world is changing, when the discipline of loss and grieving is a daily call, it is imperative to return again and again to the inner flame that burns on the hearth of belonging, to be warmed by something eternal and unchanging, the Creative Fire, the Original Presence. Poet Marie Howe, in "Annunciation", might have been describing such an experience when she wrote, "[I] swam in what shone at me/only able to endure it by being no one and so/specifically myself I thought I'd die/from being loved like that."
We are on an edge between worlds, yet it is an inner landscape wildly contoured with deep wells, high peaks, mysterious caves, open fields, if we have the capacity to see it. We may feel the edge acutely, but we are filled by beauty and wonder, by everything always becoming. Knowing this in our bones is how we keep our balance, stay upright, and thrive.
This brings me to a word about our appeal letter and donation link. For more than three decades, the Friends of Silence Letter has been like a hand held out in edge times, offering something or someone to hold to: words of wisdom, a call to the Silence where we can open to Presence and the Source of Life, where we find ground. Please consider what this means to you and all that you love and take a moment to read the appeal.
We may be in a whirlwind of change, on an uncertain edge, but what amazement waits near. Indeed, "The world is big and wide and wonderful and wicked, and our lives are murky, magnificent, malleable, and full of meaning. Oremus. Let us pray." (Padraig O'Tuama)
And so may you thrive. ~ Lindsay
Appreciation is a natural gift. It is meant to lead us to God ... Appreciation naturally appears the moment our self-concern is relinquished. It cannot be possessed and it cannot be earned; it simply IS, a free gift, available everywhere. Life is known then more as art than task. The greatest task becomes our work to help others realize such wonder. The wonder is so great that we are in danger of overfascination. We easily become focused on the gifts as an end in themselves; they do not always lead us to the Giver. We subtly become attached to the felt beauty and miss not only the initial invitation to thanksgiving, but the yet deeper invitation: to release ourselves to God as we are enabled and let rise that full quality of awareness that is beyond felt beauty, beyond self-reflective appreciation.