Now are come the days of brown leaves. They fall from the trees; they flutter on the ground. ... I hear them tell you of their borning days, when they did come into the world as leaves. ... Today, they were talking of the time before their borning days of the springtime. ... They told how they were a part of earth and air, before their tree-borning days. And now they are going back. They go back to the earth again. But they do not die.
To be empty is to practice letting go of the fears that possess us and to be more attached to the substance of life, the love in the silence. To be empty is to be available for the riches of the hidden harmony instead of the substitutions our fears would have us settle for. With emptiness as a friend we are brought to a new fullness of quiet, a fullness that comes from our commitment to a life in the silence. We make more room for emptiness as we value the wonder, the grand heights, and quiet recesses of silence. We find more emptiness as we commit ourselves to the mysteries worth beholding, to the inner life that has more space and appreciation to expand in our emptiness.