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
Faith is the prayer of words unsaid,
The tear that falls upon the bed.
Faith is the hope of one "Amen",
The will that trusts and tries again.
Faith is the day made fresh and new
When evening draught absorbs the dew.
Faith is the thought that lifts to bless
The One beyond the arms' caress.
Faith is the sky that leaves its gray
To welcome in a sunny day.
Faith, in a moment, dares the thing
The heart petitions God to bring.