Love is spirit incarnate: powerful, courageous, and splendid. It is light in dark times, a spring in dry times, a fire in cold times, and a gathering of allies in the fearful and questioning times. It is not ignorant of consequences or uncaring of effects. And, it is passionate and disciplined, wild and domesticated, a demanding task and a delightful play … a paradox, a presence with many faces.
To live a contemplative life is to be open enough to see, free enough to hear, real enough to respond. It is a life, and so it has its own rhythms of darkness, of dying-rising. Simply enough, it is a live of grateful receptivity, or wordless awe, of silent simplicity.