CANNOT BE WORDED OR THOUGHT…
REST IN THE IMPECCABLE VAST SILENCE
ALWAYS NEWBORN’S ORIGINAL ANCIENT WAY
*See quote below
Category column on right of this page: PREGNANT VIRGIN
not because of any desire to please, not to be liked,
or to be approved, even by herself,
not because of any desire to gain power over another,
to catch his interest or love,
but because what she does is true.
Addiction to Perfection
When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer,
then a tree has something to say to us:
Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy,
life is not difficult. Home is neither here nor there.
Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.
when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening.
If one listens to them silently for a long time,
this longing reveals
its kernel, its meaning.
It is not so much a matter of escaping
from one's suffering,
though it may seem to be so.
It is a longing for home,
for new metaphors for life.
It leads home.
Every path leads homeward,
every step is birth,
every step is death...
when we stand uneasy
before our own childish thoughts:
Trees have long thoughts,
long-breathing and restful,
just as they have longer lives than ours.
They are wiser than we are,
as long as we do
not listen to them.
then the brevity and the quickness
and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts
Whoever has learned how to listen to trees
no longer wants to be a tree.
He wants to be nothing
except what he is.
That is home.
That is happiness...
from: Trees: Reflections and Poems
via - The Beauty We Love
let that mysterious grace
move in your spirit as it will
and follow wherever it leads you.
Let it be the active doer and you the passive receiver.
Do not meddle with it, but let it be...
Your part is to be as wood to a carpenter
a home to a dweller.
Remain blind during this time
cutting away all desire to know,
for knowledge is a hindrance here.
Be content to feel this mysterious grace
sweetly awaken in the depths of your spirit.
The Cloud of Unknowing
there was such a thing as Worldly Happiness to be arrived at,
at certain periods of time marked out
—you have of necessity from your disposition been thus led away --
I scarcely remember counting upon any Happiness --
I look not for it if it be not in the present hour --
nothing startles me beyond the Moment.
The setting sun will always set me to rights --
or if a Sparrow come before my Window
I take part in its existence
and pick about the Gravel.
when the goodness flows from a place that requires no labeling...
inquiry for today~ can your bravest moment be about your own way toward sweetness.....
this point of never-neverland
to where you're bravely working.
Expecting the worst, you look, and instead
here's the joyful face you've been wanting to see.
Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.
If it were always a fist or always stretched open,
you'd be paralyzed.
Your deepest presence is in every small contracting
the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated as bird wings.