Dear Friends ~ October, at the heart of chilly autumn, is an intricate, nuanced, bittersweet time. The glory of shimmering trees, outrageous sunsets, invigorating winds, the scent of apples and rich mulch, the gratitude and joy of the harvest feast twines with oncoming darkness, falling leaves, the sense of letting go and passing on, the ephemeral nature of everything. Particularly now when so much in our world is changing, when the discipline of loss and grieving is a daily call, it is imperative to return again and again to the inner flame that burns on the hearth of belonging, to be warmed by something eternal and unchanging, the Creative Fire, the Original Presence. Poet Marie Howe, in "Annunciation", might have been describing such an experience when she wrote, "[I] swam in what shone at me/only able to endure it by being no one and so/specifically myself I thought I'd die/from being loved like that."
We are on an edge between worlds, yet it is an inner landscape wildly contoured with deep wells, high peaks, mysterious caves, open fields, if we have the capacity to see it. We may feel the edge acutely, but we are filled by beauty and wonder, by everything always becoming. Knowing this in our bones is how we keep our balance, stay upright, and thrive.
This brings me to a word about our appeal letter and donation link. For more than three decades, the Friends of Silence Letter has been like a hand held out in edge times, offering something or someone to hold to: words of wisdom, a call to the Silence where we can open to Presence and the Source of Life, where we find ground. Please consider what this means to you and all that you love and take a moment to read the appeal.
We may be in a whirlwind of change, on an uncertain edge, but what amazement waits near. Indeed, "The world is big and wide and wonderful and wicked, and our lives are murky, magnificent, malleable, and full of meaning. Oremus. Let us pray." (Padraig O'Tuama)
And so may you thrive. ~ Lindsay
The new challenge for all peoples is to broaden our sense of spiritual community, becoming fully ecumenical not only concerning whom we pray FOR, but also concerning whom we pray WITH. If humankind can begin to pray together we can begin to live together, finding new and creative ways to reduce the evils which plague our planet. But how can we pray together with integrity, when we differ so much in beliefs? The best way to being to pray and meditate together is in SILENCE. Words are not enough. In silence we can sense that we are not separate from anyone, and so we can dare to hope for peace. For silence to "work", participants must bring to it some degree of trust, love, and letting-go: a trust in the good-will of the others which moves them to join in such an expression of human caring; a love which brings a sense of heart-felt connection with the others as human beings; and a letting-go for a short time of our desperate clinging to the convictions which separate and divide us, letting these recede to the background of consciousness. After the silence, we return to deal with the same differences, but in a different spiritual climate.