Ceaselessly weaving your name on the loom of my mind

I weave your name on the loom of my mind
To clean and soften ten thousand threads
And to comb the twists and knots of my thoughts.
No more shall I weave a garment of pain.
For you have come to me, drawn by my weaving,
Ceaselessly weaving your name on the loom of my mind.

The symbolic meaning of names

In ancient times the symbolic meaning of names was an assumed part of their overall significance: a name was far more than simply an identifier, it was a way of truly and essentially knowing the person or thing named. Choosing a name for a child was not taken lightly, as that name would necessarily prove to be a source of strength or weakness for that individual throughout his or her life... More recently, the belief in a deep existential connection among all things allows for the possibility that our name is fundamentally correct for us.

The Name unites us all in a wondrous dance of being

The Name unites us all in a wondrous dance of being. One way of knowing God's Name is by linking our own life-breath with the life-breath of creation. Consider how it will affect even our casual conversation when we realize that each time we breathe, we call God's Name. Whenever we breathe we invoke the sacred. How this awareness will change the way we use our breath and our speech. The Name calling us most fully to embrace the divinity breathing throughout Creation, is the one Name we cannot appropriate, the one Name we cannot own.

When you move more and more into that love center

If the clearest connection to God is inside the heart, when you move more and more into that love center, the ache of being two, of feeling separation, dissolves... Whatever is deeply loved — friend, grandchild, late afternoon light, masonry, tennis, whatever absorbs you — this may be a reflection of how you move in the invisible world of spirit. It is your beauty, the elegant point where everything is one. The uniomystica is a lived thing ... a transformed intention, an intensity, and the peace of walking inside it: The Friend.

To cultivate love

O beloved friends, please listen: the purpose of human life, the supreme ideal of which all other ídeals are simply an expression, is to cultivate love... There is no boundary whatsoever to Pure love — it embraces humanity and Divinity equally. In this most intense love, no sense of duality can remain.

In love, you grow and come home to yourself

The heart ís the inner face of your life. The human journey strives to make this inner face beautiful. It is here that love gathers within you. Love is absolutely vital for a human life. For love alone can awaken what is divine within you. In love, you grow and come home to yourself.

What is my nature, boundless love?

In your nature
eternal Godhead,
I shall come to know my nature
And what is my nature, boundless love?
It is fire,
Because You are nothing but a Fire
And You have given humankind
a share in this nature
for by the Fire of Love,
You created us.

Even a bitter drink is sweet when it is from the Belove

The experience of love is the most fulfilling and important experience we can have, the highest of all values. Sometimes we need to be shocked out of our complacency and indifference to know the reality, the centrality, of love. Without becoming passive, we can stop resisting and submit to Love. We begin to see the ínfinite power of Love as the greatest cause in the universe, and little by little we begin to serve it. Eventually, we begin to see that even a bitter drink is sweet when it is from the Beloved.

No one can love God without knowing their own misery

It is only when we come to total and unconditional "love" of our own darkness that we can know God incarnate in us, loving and understanding us in our totality. Pascal says that no one can love God without knowing their own misery.

Then something overcame me

One day I stood quietly gazing through our sliding glass doors. It was a windless day, and without thinking, I found myself slipping into a silent world. Then something overcame me. Whereas silence had been a visitor, a friend with whom I communed when I chose, now silence slipped into the core of my being. Without my knowíng, without even my consciousness consent, sílence entered me ín a way a spouse penetrates his espoused. I realized with a shock that this seeking of silence had led to consummation. I was consumed. I was wed — in a way that had no guests, no celebration, no fanfare or music, and no witness. Except my heart.

Pages