The silence as broken at last by the bell signifying the end of morning activity. Turning to the old woman, I asked, "What are you looking at?" I immediately flushed. Prying into the lives of the residents was strictly forbidden. Perhaps she had not heard. But she had. S1ow1y she turned toward me, and I could see her face for the first time. It was radiant. In a voice filled with joy she said, "Why, child, I am looking at the Light."
The mind is to be a reservoir of Light — free, ready to give color and form, ready to speak from Wisdom's Source. Silence is the opening note. The Indwelling Light illumines the heart and mind, loosening the sightless, stormswept self. The freeing of Light, of God's own Life within, is the means of self-expression — not self-filled expression — but God-like freedom.
It is better to live a holy life than to talk about it, Lighthouses do not ring bells and fire cannons to call attention to their shining — they just shine.
Without the Light, the journey of life is fraught with dangers and no traveler's vision can penetrate the haze of self-centeredness. The ímage of God as Light that suffuses all the universe is one that unítes the divine transcendence and immanence... All of creation is replete with "signs" of God's presence, but they cannot be discerned without the Light.
The millennium holds the promise that Heaven will be created on Earth, and this will be accomplished by grounding spirituality into all walks of life. We are the light and co-creators with God, and it is our responsibility to use this light to bring peace, love, happiness, and abundance to the Planet.
Sometimes at the momet of despair, a wave of light breaks into our darkness, and it is as though a voice were saying: "You are accepted," accepted by that which is great than you.
No deep darkness in the world
Can overcome the light.
A single candle flame will burn
Against the darkest night.
Let all the world of darkness come ...
Resentment, envy, fears.
Then light the single flame of love
the darkness disappears!
There are lights which ascend and lights which descend. The ascending lights are the lights of the heart; the descending lights are those of the Throne. The false self is the veil between the Throne and the heart, like springs toward like. Light ascends toward light and light descends upon light, and "it is light upon light."
Nothing was changed, yet everything was changed. Compared to this, she felt as if she had been sleepwalking all of her life. "God is here."
I pierce the universe.
God pierces me.
I do not think; I am thought.
I do not know; I am known.
Every movement, every breath was poetry. She had passed through her dark night of the soul, and understood now how the light in one's heart – the light of faith – could shine brighter than the midday sun.
Blessed One,
Flood my soul with Thy Spirit and light ...
Shine throuh me and be so in me that
every soul I come in contact with may
feel Thy Presence in my soul.
Let them look up and see no longer me,
but only You.
Stay with me and then I shall begin
to shine as You shine,
so to shine as to be a light for others.
Amen.
I need time to listen, to examine, and to confess ... to listen for the Voice, if for no other reason that so I will recognize it more clearly in the ways it speaks into the noise and bustle of the life I lead. The silence that I seek must be nurtured until it lives in me no matter where I am at the moment. The silence I seek must be something more than the absence of the numbing noise and debilitating detail of life in our society. It must be a solitude that is transcendent, a stillness that can be found in the midst of noise, a silence that is portable.
A day filled with noise and voices can be a day of silence, If the noises become for us the echo of the presence of God. When we speak of ourselves and are filled with ourselves, we leave silence behind. When we repeat the intimate words of God that are within us, our silences remain intact.
SILENCE: an energy which extends beyond the furthest reaches of the universe — and never vanishes, a quiet which pervades every particle of this world, and glides through the blackness of the great harbor by night, and speaks differently by day. Speech is the body of silence: the word floats up from silence; it flows back into silence. The word of relationship and the quiet of the heart are inseparable — like love and the silence from which it is born, and the rest to which it returns, unceasingly.
Quiet ... silence ... tranquility. Those are qualities of life seldom enjoyed today. Incorporating silence into daily living is both possible and desirable. But in order to make silence a presence rather than an absence, we have to work at it. The effort can result in greater introspection, spiritual sensitivity and creativity. No matter how busy life becomes, anyone can discover occasions each month, each week, and even each day, to create nourishing silence.
The spaciousness of silence nurtures new sensitivities, new sense-abilities. During this phase of the spiritual journey, the emphasis will not be directly on speaking but on perceiving: on SEEING instead of just looking, on LISTENING instead of just hearing. Eyes and ears are not sufficient... To speak from the heart, we must listen to the speech of the heart, which grows articulate in being moved and is animated by the speech of the world. The eyes of the heart do not find nouns in the world, but verbs. The seeing and listening of the heart enable us to appreciate the world and all it phenomena as animate. We must simply become quiet enough, heartfully sense-able enough, to perceive and inwardly honor this silent speech of the world.
If you love truth, be a lover of silence. Silence, like the sunlight, will illuminate you in God, and will unite you to God. Love silence: it brings you a fruit that tongue cannot describe. In the beginning we have to force ourselves to be silent. But then there is born something that draws us to silence. May God give you an expression of this "something" that is born of silence. After a while, a certain sweetness is born in the heart, and you are drawn almost by force to remain in silence.
A tourist spending the night in a small New England Town joined a group sitting on the porch of the general store. After several vain attempts to start a conversation asked, "Is there a law against talking in this town."
"No law against it," said one old timer. We just like to make sure it's an improvement on silence."
I feel an increasing desire to be silent with friends. Words are important in bringing hearts together, but too many words can alienate us from one another. Not every event has to be told, not every idea has to be shared. Once an atmosphere of mutual trust is present we can be silent together and let God be the One who speaks, gently and softly.
It is a paradox that we encounter so much internal noise when we first try to sit in silence.
Only in silence the word,
only in dark the light,
only in dying life.
Silence open the inner fount from which the word arises.
The act of inner attention seems to create a medieval walled garden. It is hedged about with silence and stillness, but silence and stillness are not the heart of it. At the center is a fountain and we see that everything has arranged itself around the water playing in the sunlight: here is the source of the timelessness that is everywhere apparent. The more deeply we enter, the more the fountain soars above; awe and wonder claim us.
It asks that we learn how to live, to make a particular path and fullness out of the spirit's eternity and silence.
The world without tears is a heartless world. The soul that sheds no tears is a soul without love. O God, save us from turning into statues of tearlessness! This must be our prayer. Tears are signs of life; they bring life back to the world. Tears well out of the heart of love; they restore to the human community the ability to love. Tears take form in cries and struggles for justice; they revive the soul of our century for a promise and a future. And it is in the people capable of tears that a promise of human community and a future for the world lie.
To keep our feet on the ground is to find wholeness in our lives. We bring spirit down in the world of soul to be embodied, to work, to be of benefit. At the same times we go the other way, too, bringing world up toward spirit, ennobling the kitchen and the freeway. Integrity is active, a practice concerned with motion, connection, and struggle. It does not just go by the rules. In the great silence, integrity listens for the true course. This means that integrity is slow. It allows us to feel the anxiety of events developing, finding their shape; it does not rush through the time of growth, and enjoys the moment before the task is complete.
It so happens that the work which is likely to be our most durable monument, and to convey some knowledge of us to the most remote posterity, is a work of bare utility; not a shrine, not a fortress, not a palace, but a bridge.
Consciousness individually and collectively shapes our material world. Our interior life constantly shapes our exterior life. This is why no matter how diverse our work in the external world, the "common work" of humanity —the only true way we can live our external lives — requires becoming conscious of the relationship between our inner and outer lives.
Work is not always required. There is such a thing as sacred idleness.
"The book is done then. I guess we're finished."
"No, son, we're not finished. We just don't need us a book anymore. You can just come and visit anyway. I might go to see your family too. I hear there's a good fishing your way. We did this book just like we said we would. We did our best. I don't care if nothing else happens with it or if somebody was to print a hundred copies. I'll have my own copy and I can read now."
"You've accomplished a lot."
"That's right. Yet judge me not for the deeds I've done. But for the life I've lived. Son, people think one hundred years is a long time. Most folks just don't understand. My life hasn't been as long at all; seems short to me. It's all gone by so fast. Life is so good and it gets better every day."
Everything faded -- beside
The light which bathed and warmed, the Presence
Your being had opened to. Where it shone,
Their life was, and abundantly; it touched
Your dullest task and the tasks were easy.
Joyful, absorbed,
You "'practiced the presence of God" as a Musician
Practices hour after hour his art:
"A stone before the carver,"
You "entered into yourself."
Much of our work is invisible and intangible. You cannot measure it by human means; and sometimes a period of silent reflection will accomplish more good than if the time had been spent in outward activity. Our work is immaterial where we are and what we do; the thing that matters is who we are and what we intend. Constant preoccupation with exterior work handicaps our knowledge of ourselves and of our intentions.
I am of the opinion that my life belongs to others, and as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for them whatever I can. I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work, the more I live. Life is no brief candle for me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for a moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations.
Whatever we do for the love of God benefits our souls and our lives in a way that ego-motivated actions never can. Whatever we do for the love of God is done with sincerity because it is not motivated by self-interest. We leave our concern for gain and loss, success and failure, in the hands of God. We stop considering ourselves as the sole cause of our actions and their results. Consequently, we become the instruments of a deep wisdom and love.
If your still alive your mission on earth is not yet complete. People are happiest when they are so completely engrossed in an activity that they lose track of time and go into what is called a flow state. For this to occur, the activity must be reasonably challenging, neither too easy or too hard. It must be something that is of value to others, and it must be something that you love, that you can be passionate about. Your passion for your work will get you out of bed and into the workplace' even when you don't really feel like it, even when you are discouraged about your progress.
Work is more than work. Work is a way of creating and contributing; It is giving to the world; it is sacramental, because It is serving. It is a yielding up and a showing, WHATEVER it is you did — The best-made bed, the best-written book, the best piece of pottery you had within you. It is good for the psyche and good for the soul.
The saints were not people with the greatest education or even the largest results. But they did have a couple traits in common which were almost invisible: ehat they SAID correlated almost one hundred percent with what they WERE and what they DID. An amazing and invisible power may be released when a person's words and inner self finally match.
Every person has a share in this world and a share in the world to come. We understand the concept of a share in the world to come, but what does it mean having a share in this world? Open your hearts. Having a share in this world means I know exactly what I have to do in this world. This is a very high level. If I know that if I don't do it, it just won't happen. Then I've just got to do it. This is my share in this world.
Beauty is a wordless sermon on the mystery of the Divine Presence in our world. The appearance of beauty and our ability to receive it is a revelation of God in our lives. Beauty is one of the faces of God.
Beauty bears within itself every element of happiness, whence its character of peace, plenitude, satisfaction; now beauty is in our very being, we live by its substance. It is the calm, simple and generous stillness of the pool which mirrors the depth of the sky with all its serenity; it is the beauty of the water-lily, of the lotus opening to the light of the sun. It is repose in the center, resignation to Providence, quietude in God.
Oh, that I might ever know
Your Presence in every face
Your Pulse in every heart;
That I might ever feel
Your Breath in every breeze
Your Touch in each rain drop;
That I might ever see
Your Smile in every bloom
Your Might in each sunrise.
And, oh, please grant
That I might view
Life's beauty through
Your Eyes.
There were quite a few angles around in the midst of that ruin, hatred, and anger — including a little flower. I had to do my best to go in that direction of beauty. I saw that life is not only cruelty and confusion and ignorance, but life also has many heartfelt people, wonderful people who are trying to do their best. You don't need to see ten thousands flowers in order to see that so much beauty in life is waving to you and saying hello to you. We try to live in beauty, in that light of goodness.
A person is forced inward by the spareness of what is outward and visible in all this land and sky. The beauty of the Plains is like that of an icon -- what seems stern and almost empty is merely open, a door into simple and holy state.
The wonderful beauty of prayer is that the opening of our heart is as natural as the opening of a flower. To let a flower open and bloom it is only necessary to let it BE; so if we simply ARE, if we become and remain still and silent, our heart cannot but be open, the Spirit cannot but pour through into the whole of our being. It is for this we have been created.
Every time I arrange fresh flowers, I choose the blossoms from my garden and the vase from my shelf so that color and form complement each other. Four days later, I see the vermilion rose is developing a silver sheen that would be enhanced in pewter. I choose a new vase; I honor the aging; I create a new form. Just as order and beauty are crucial to a floral arrangement, so order and beauty are necessary for the well-being of my soul. They mirror each other.