"It is the time you waste on our flowers that makes your flowers unique," the Little Prince said when he realized that the world was full of flowers that looked just like his own. It is love that transforms the vast unknowable, the anonymous universe with all its chaotic eruptions of pain and joy, its life and death, with a world that we can live in and make sense of in some way.
Love is who you are, what you have come into life to give. Love is the cooperative, harmonizing, accepting, forgiving essence of your being. Love does not give up nor demand what it does not have. Love doesn't force itself on others in order to feel better about itself. Love doesn't attack to avenge itself nor does love withhold itself. When we learn to see ourselves as love and to be present with others in loving ways, love will be anchored in our consciousness and on the planet.
What is all inclusive cannot be limited to form. Love does not choose . . . the moment of its expression. Love extends to all at all times. Love is without conditions; that is to say, without form. . . . When you establish conditions on love, you experience the conditions, not the love...the form, not the content. Love expresses only through an open heart.
Often it is the ocean itself
that speaks in its roiling voice
its thunderous tongue.
What it is saying
I have listened to for years,
as it crackles and whips,
or whispers in its silken tones.
Even now I am not sure of its message,
its assaults of thrill and boom
shattering the rocks
into flares of light.
Something about Mystery,
something about uncontainable
Love.
Love has its price. God wants to make us alive, and the wider we open our hearts to others or the more audibly we cry out against the injustice which rules over us, the more difficult our life in a society of injustice becomes.
Love by its very nature is a gift freely given. And yet, this gift is known only as it is given again . . .Give as love gives -- just as the sun that gives its light to all who ask, or the sparrow that sings for the song itself. When you give love, love is your reward. When you judge some people worthy of your giving and other people as undeserving, you have forgotten love's law . . . The secret of unconditional love is that we are all the same, holy beyond imagine. This is what the release of fear reveals . . . This is what you will find when you open your heart to every element of creation.
Love is that flame that once kindled burns everything,
and only the mystery of the journey remains.
The day will come when, after harnessing the winds, the tides, and gravitation, we shall harness for God the energies of love. And on that day, for the second time in the history of the world, humankind will
have discovered fire.
If you fuse knowledge of your transcendent origin with tireless service in and for God, you will come, on earth and in this body, to know divine joy and be fed by the ceaseless passion-energy of divine love. Human and divine, inner peace and outer action, knowledge and love, will be married in you at ever greater depths to make you an ever more powerful and radiant warrior for Love and Justice in all dimensions.
Humility as a virtue has to do with knowing ourselves as human, as earthy, as the clay into which the divine breath has been breathed . . .It is to live the paradox of our blessed and broken natures, to know that matter matters, that flesh carries spirit, that life is discovered at the precise meeting place of the human and the divine.To practice humility is to live deeply into this truth, to lift oneself to the mountain top of prayer and aspiration and to embrace the lowly valley of our own abjection.
We are striving for humility in our lives, to draw closer to God . . .It is not an accident that the humus, or the soil, comes from the same word.It's the base from which everything grows.Gardening and the spiritual life go together.
Humility is not a matter of beating ourselves up. It is not a question of judging ourselves as stupid or sinful, as hopeless and bad. Who are we to judge these things? Humility, it seems, is the gentle acceptance of that most tender place inside ourselves that throbs with the pain of separation from the Beloved. It is that deep knowingness that identification with the false self brings nothing but further separation. It is an initially reluctant dropping down into the emptiness and an ultimate experience of peace when we stop doing and rediscover simple being . . . when we heed the call to cease creating and remember we are created.
The word "humility" (also "human") is derived from the Latin "humus," meaning "the soil." Perhaps this is not simply because it entails stooping and returning to earthly origins, but also because, as we are rooted in this earth of everyday life, we find in it all the vitality and fertility unnoticed by people who mostly tramp on across the surface, drawn by distant landscapes.
Humility is an inner quality that is ranked as the primary prerequisite for holiness. Without humility, we might be too proud to acknowledge our weaknesses, and so we wouldn't be inclined to work to make the necessary inner changes. . . . To strengthen the soul-trait of humility, walk the mind slowly and methodically along the full journey of life, from the fertilization of the egg all the way through death and decay. It engenders great appreciation for the wisdom of the divine and fosters a healthy and genuine sense of humility and gratitude for all we have received.
Humility in itself is naught else but a true knowing and feeling of ourselves as we are.
The heights of the spirit can only be climbed by passing through the portals of humility. You can only acquire right knowledge when you have learnt to esteem it.
We don't talk much about humility in AA, almost never use the word. Maybe that is because, as the spiritual adage has it, if you think you are humble, you are not. But I see enough of freedom, serenity, healing, and unselfishness around me to think it must be hiding there somewhere.
I try to be like water. Water goes to the humblest, lowest places and provides moisture. My place in the world is pinpoint small, but it goes down deep. The residents of this bleak, barren, and disjointed community have taught me that there can be profound wisdom, wonder, and love in a place of almost total despair. Our neighborhood may be nothing like the pristine hallways of a gallery, but we do art here. Our art holds our feelings, the feeling that we care deeply -- like water, like life.
Once you grasp the nature of unconditional love, you realize there is a higher order of complexity that is unfolding within human consciousness as a whole. Then you receive the next gift of the angel light -- humility, perhaps the hardest gift to accept. In the angel light, there is no room for self-importance -- it is, in fact, a major obstacle. Instead, it is necessary to surrender all our false pride. Humility ultimately teaches us that all life is sacred -- a gift of the divine union of form and the formless.
Cara Mia, if that man has not separated you from the love of God, and he has not, then the only thing keeping hate of him alive is your thought about him. Only your pride keeps him in your memory. Dissolve your pride, and you dissolve your hate. To be still possessed of the hate that pain made is not intelligent. Take care. It can sap your energy to what you know to be your purpose. By being troubled about it, you have already discovered it to be unworthy of your grander aims, and that is the beginning of humility.
A humble spirit does not ask for more
than it needs, and what it needs,
the Universe provides.
A saint is a person who practices the keystone human virtue of humility. Humility in the face of wealth and plenty, humility in the face of hatred and violence, humility in the face of strength, humility in the face of your own genius or lack of it, humility in the face of another's humility, humility in the face of love and beauty, humility in the face of pain and death. Saints are driven to humbling themselves before all the splendor and horror of the world because they perceive there to be something divine in it pulsing and alive beneath the hard dead surface of material things -- greater and purer than they are.
Without doing anything, things can sometimes go more smoothly just because of our peaceful presence. In a small boat when a storm comes, if one person remains solid and calm, others will not panic and the boat is more likely to stay afloat.
To the degree that each of us is dedicated to wanting there to be peace in the world, then we have to take responsibility when our own hearts and minds harden and close. We have to be brave enough to soften what is rigid, to find the soft spot and play with it. We have to have that kind of courage and take that kind of responsibility. That's the true practice of peace.
I asked for peace
You offered your presence.
I asked for hope
You came to my side.
I asked for joy
You lit my journey.
I asked for love
You gave me yourself.
Peace is not something you can force on anything or anyone... . much less upon one's own mind. It's like trying to quiet the ocean by pressing upon the waves. Sanity lies in somehow opening to the chaos, allowing anxiety, moving deeply into the tumult, diving into the waves, where underneath, within, peace simply is.
Ultimately, we have just one moral duty: to reclaim large areas of peace in ourselves, more and more peace, and to reflect it toward others. And the more peace there is in us, the more peace there will be in our troubled world.
Life from the Center is a life of unhurried peace and power. It is serene and radiant. It takes no time, but it occupies all our time, making our life programs new and overcoming. We need not get frantic. Love is at the helm. And when our little day is done, we lie down quietly in peace, for all is well.
To be at peace with myself means to accept myself the way I am; to reduce the split that is created by the image of what I would like to be and who I really am; to be patient with myself, especially in regard to what conflicts with my idealized self.
Lead me from death to Life
from falsehood to Truth.
Lead me from despair to Hope,
from fear to Trust.
Lead me from hate to Love,
from war to Peace.
Let Peace fill our hearts,
our world, our universe.
But above all we should understand that there can never be peace between nations until it is known that true peace is within our very souls.
The peace in the sky, the peace in mid-air,
the peace on the earth, the peace in the waters,
the peace in the plants, the peace in the forest trees,
the peace in the angels, the peace in the Beloved,
the peace in all things
the peace in peace ...
May that peace come to me!
This is the way of peace:
Overcome evil with Goodness,
falsehood with Truth,
and hatred with Love.
My life, when I look back, has not been easy. One thing I learned was that compassion, a sense of caring, thinking about others' welfare, that sort of mental attitude brings me inner peace.
The grandmothers agree that personal healing is the essential first step toward healing the world. We need to strive for the peace of mind that has no price before we can realize peace on the planet, they say... . Deep within our hearts is where the peace and the healing will start. Surrender to Spirit. Be silent and listen to the guidance there.
Over all the mountaintops is peace,
In all the treetops, scarcely a breath;
The little birds in the forest are silent.
Wait then; you, too, will have peace.
If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.
Love is our shared truth.
Peace is our eternal hope.
A peacemaker prays. Prayer is the beginning and the end, the source and the fruit, the core and the content, the basis and the goal for all peacemaking. I say this without apology, because it allows me to go straight to the heart of the matter, which is that peace is a divine gift, a gift we receive in prayer.
A work of beauty requires the diverse and contrary qualities of discipline, hard work, gentleness and love.To create a work of beauty, a human being needs a spiritual life and a rhythm, and those two things need to work well together.By "rhythm" I mean a slower, more thoughtful pace than that which is generally lived in this society.
When your ears aren't filled with chatter and the cacophony of negativity, and your life is free of stress-generated mindless actions and the prolonged cleanup operations that result from the subsequent mess, then the still, small voice of spirit may be heard. The music of the universe becomes louder and louder in the silence generated by the absence of charged auto-chatter, and we are able to hear the whispered instructions of the soul, the rustle of angel wings, and the divine harmony of the spheres.'
Basking in solitude, Silence is
the Friend who stills
lurking desires, as
Wisdom cuts through tangled
webs of illusion.
Meditation lights the Flame.
An early century desert monk once shared an image:
"When the door of the steam bath is continually left open, the heat inside rapidly escapes through it; likewise the soul, in its desire to say many things, dissipates its remembrance of God through the door of speech, even though everything it says is good ..."
Timely silence, then, is precious, for it is nothing less than the mother of the wisest thoughts.
Silence purifies. Those who are dedicated to silence must persevere in our over-busy world zones of purified air. We must struggle against the asphyxiation, which threatens the cities of our consumer society. We live in a world mentally polluted by verbal intoxication. If dedication to silence did not exist, it would be necessary to invent it.
On the surface, silence was simple: we didn't speak unless it was necessary. But what was the point of silence? The point was, we learned, not mere silence, not silence to preserve some sort of order, but something much greater. In silence the idea was to recollect ourselves, to place ourselves more squarely in the presence of God than we would if people were talking to us all the time. We could pray, we could meditate, we could contemplate.
A poem is a passionate prayer of song
with blessings from and for the faithful All,
an innocent, sacramental creation
remembering ancient tradition,
a gift of praise at an invisible altar,
and a lone priestly vision embraced
by sacred silence,
seeking forever the eternal unknown.
Poetry comes out of silence and yearns for silence. Like us, it travels from one silence to another. It is like flight, like a circling over silence.