Quotations

Divine compassion is ever present within our limited compassion.

In spiritual maturity, the opposite of injustice is not justice, but compassion. Not me against you, not me straightening out the present ill, fighting to gain a just result for myself and others, but compassion, a life that goes against nothing and fulfills everything.

Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them humanity cannot survive.

Ask that your consciousness be filled with Light;
ask to be illumined to follow the path of simplicity
with integrity and inner sight.
Inspired by Divine Light and Love
you begin to express Divine Will in action:
thus will your journey be eased,
joy will nest in your heart.
Awakening to the indwelling Divine Guest,
Loving Companion Presence of your heart,
family, friends, and strangers alike
are greeted with compassion.
A greater state of awareness being aroused,
you recognize the interconnectedness
of everything and everyone:
the unity of diversity.
 

The grosser consciousness depends heavily on particles of matter. The subtler consciousness is more independent -- it does not depend so much on the brain. Luminance, radiance, imminence -- the three states of subtle mind -- all of these disappear in the clear Light, the innermost consciousness.

I had wondered what Nicholas was doing behind the closed door of his study so early in the morning. Now I knew he was not just reading scripture and praying. He was following a discipline which focused him and made it possible for him to realize his full potential. He was lining up his center with the integrating principle at work in the universe, the principle which was ultimately stronger than the drive to fragment. He was tapping into the powers of light which would allow him to live dynamically, surfing the chaos, splitting the darkness, serving the Creator by serving others again and again and again.

Say from the heart that you are the perfect day and in you dwells the light that will never fail.

One winter day
something will shine out
from an everyday object
and the darkness will flood with light.
Something we have seen
a thousand times
suddenly becomes
the sentinel of
another world.

"I have just the question for you: who are you?" "I just told you," said the young man. "No, you told me about the clothes you wear. You told me your name, where you’re from, what you've done, the things you've studied. Your problem is, you don’t know who you are. Let me tell you who you are. You are a ray of God's own light."

I slowly began to make out forms and shapes, and the shapes soon became brighter until I was in a world of just light . . . As I flowed like mercury into the center of this light field, I knew I was Home! I had been there before. At the center of this awesome experience was a round ball of living water. I stepped into the middle of this ball of light-filled water just as I was asked to return. I know I'll go back there… I didn’t want to return, I was so alive.

I started to compose the opening of "Fos" (light) and I had the idea of a string trio playing in the distance which would represent the soul yearning for God. The choir represented God in uncreated energies. This yearning choir is played by the string trio which is cut off by the joy/sorrow chord by the choir singing the word "Fos," light, light, light, light, light -- until it becomes an expanded light separated from all yet united to all, and moving straight into the second section, Doxa: symbolizing the glory of that Light filling everything with light.

God is peace, God’s name is peace, and all is bound together in peace.

The stillness and the peace of now enfold you in perfect gentleness.

To be at one with God is to be at peace . . . Peace is to be found only within, and unless one finds it there one will never find it at all. Peace lies not in the external world. It lies within one’s own soul.

In finding peace and recognizing the light in yourself, we say there's a hearth in your heart where the Creator has given you something very sacred, a special gift, a special duty, an understanding. And now is the time for us to clean out those hearths, to let that inner light glow.

Our work for peace must begin within the private world of each of us . . .

We will not build a peaceful world by following a negative path. It is not enough to say we must not wage war. It is necessary to love peace and sacrifice for it. We must concentrate . . . on the positive affirmation of peace. We must see that peace represents a sweeter music, a cosmic melody that is far superior to the discords of war. Somehow, we must transform the dynamics of the world power struggle . . . to a positive contest to harness humanity's creative genius for the purpose of making peace and prosperity a reality for all the nations of the world. . . . If we have a will -- and determination -- to mount such a peace offensive, we will unlock hitherto tightly sealed doors of hope and transform our imminent cosmic elegy into a psalm of creative fulfillment.

Inner peace is not found by staying on the surface of life, or by attempting to escape from life through any means. Inner peace is found by facing life squarely, solving its problems, and delving as far beneath the surface as possible to discover its verities and realities.

May the peace of each moment enfold you in rhythm with heaven’s celestial heartfelt beat.
 

We do not need to be experts or geniuses to remember that all of existence is precious. We do not need cathedrals to remind ourselves to experience the sacred. We need only to be deeply respectful of what is fundamentally true; and that is what we rediscover when we center ourselves in silence.

Within us is the soul of the whole, the wise silence, the universal beauty, the eternal One.

Silence receives too little appreciation, silence being a higher, rarer thing than sound. Silence implies inner riches, and a savouring of impressions. Babies value this too. They lie silent, and one can suppose them asleep but look closer, and with eyes wide open they are sparkling like jewels in the dark. Silence is beyond many of us, and hardly taken into account as one of life's favours. It can be sacred. Its implications are unstatable. It has a superiority that makes the interruption of the spoken word crude, rendering small what was infinite.

The phoebe sits on her nest
Hour after hour,
Day after day,
Waiting for life to burst out
From under her warmth.
Can I weave a nest of silence,
weave it of listening,
listening, listening,
Layer upon layer?
But one must first become small,
Nothing but a presence,
Attentive as a nesting bird,
Proffering no slightest wish
Toward anything
that might happen or be given,
Only the warm, faithful waiting,
contained in one’s smallness.
Beyond the question,
the silence.
Before the answer,
the silence.

I am discovering that Silence is not a concept, an idea, not the familiar "absence of sound." Instead, I "enter" silence as if I were to open a door, cross a threshold, and enter a room. Silence is substantive, tactile, like material. I feel its layers. It has depth like water, shallow or deep. I immerse myself in it. It is like water, supportive. I lay back in it. It is buoyant or it can draw me down. I think about whether or not it has a bottom, a ground. Perhaps its bottom turns into a top at some point, just as going east eventually leads west. I feel secure in the way it totally envelops. It is pleasurable yet mysterious.

Mark Van Doren wrote about "the [silent] web of the world, how thick and how thin, ancient and full of grace." What a lovely vocation for me to spend the rest of my years playing with the secrets of that shining place.