Quotations

Happiness is the joy of the heart;
joy is the happiness of the soul.

The spiritual life is the uncovering of deeper and deeper levels of joy until that joy that streams from the God-head itself is realized and known in every breath. Every increase in joy is an increase in strength and peace of soul and an increase in all the powers of creativity that reveal life as a divine dance.

I felt first of all joyous. I felt that which joy is made of, and I realized that Joy itself must have been the impelling force, that which was before we were there, and that somehow Joy was in every part of our making. When the world was an ooze without any shape or direction, there must have been Joy reaching out and expressing itself everywhere.

Silence is the perfectest herald of joy.

We are all joined in the holiness of the mind that God created. I therefore never consider myself alone in the silence. I'm 90 and live alone in a four room house surrounded by open space. I have no T and have always luxuriated in silence. The exterior silence is here. The i8nterior silence is a work in progress.

Begin each day anchored in stillness, taking nothing for granted, open to whatever the coming day's gift may be. Listen to the silence for ten minutes or so and realize how filled it is, filled with the breath of God! Su8ch silence wants to draw from you a quiet prayer that leans on that presence and seeks to harken to it throughout the day.

For sheer adventure, exploring the inner space of the human spirit has to equal the exploration of outer space. Inner space holds a realm of existence not readily apparent when we are in the grip of the strident external world. A powerful launching vehicle for the discovery of the realm within is silence. It is in the vessel of silence that inner transformation can occur.

I sat in the cafeteria alone wallowing in the quiet. I didn't realize how much I missed being silently alone. This place is full of noise. Hard noises and constant noises. Prison is full of people, angry people and people afraid, but always people crowded in rooms and herded like cattle from place to place. I sat down in the cafeteria and closed my eyes and felt God in the silence. I stayed there until they made me leave.

Beside a river, in a spell
Of utter silence, there am I.
Alone I sit within a cell:
The midnight hours are passing by ...
I gaze into the distance, staying
Focused on night's formlessness;
The heart is begging to be praying --
In holy calm, how effortless!
All problems seem so far from me;
The world seem foreign and unreal.
Up in the heavens, You I see;
Within my heart, deep peace I feel.

With my rent miraculously taken care of, my life went deeply inward. I hardly spoke for over a year. Many visitors came, sat in silence, and left. Sometimes I spoke, but mostly I did not. The unwritten rule seemed to be that I would not speak out of discomfort or fear of silence. I would speak only when I felt that somehow a compassionate word might help someone I was with. Fasting, silence, and reading defined my life for several years... I didn't know if I was giving myself to foolishness or saintliness.

We are often bombarded by so many extraneous stimuli that it is difficult to pray, much less remain attentive in the silence. I can't help but wonder how many times God has called my name and has caught me in my distraction. Perhaps the sum and substance of our conversations with God are being able to talk together as we would with our closest friend. In any good conversation, there are moments of silence -- intimate silences filled with the comfort of the presence of the other.

Like trees, children grow tall in silence.

"In my family there was much speaking and much silence. The speaking of words flowed from the speaking of our silences."

"What then is silence?"

"It is being. Spoken language and silence are keys."

"Keys to what?"

"To communion."

"What do you mean by communion?"

"At-oneness. each individual IS a word. As you are a word to me. As we are all words for one another."

On this rainy and interior day, as I write letters about Mummy, I feel her presence so strongly. Just now, I can feel her sending her love to me. Suddenly, I see and feel her standing there, just a couple yards in front of me by the window, looking younger, and yet every age and no age. She's all in white, radiating light, smiling her smile, and love is pouring out of her eyes onto me, covering me. Ifeel my heart pounding, a ringing in my ears. I find it hard to breathe. It is overwhelming ... I know now she'll always be with me and, though it makes me sad to think I can't be with her in person anymore, I know I'll never not be with her again.

Death is the flow from silence and love to deeper silence and greater love.

We die to many parts of ourselves, and the quality of each of these dying processes determiners the vitality of each rebith. It seem sto me that between heaven and earth there is just the slightest, most permeable membrane, and dthat it is possible to live in both realms simultaneously, at least some of the time. The conjunction of the two dimensions that we so loosely call death and birth is equally permeable. Each courageous end is also the finest and most pure beginning. To journey into that great unknown is the human-making pilgrimage, a gradual return to the image and likeness of God.

Modern life does not give us the experiences that might enlarge our vision. It hardly occurs to us that the living can have anything to say to the dying, or that the dying have anything to communicate to the living. We think that the dying are beyond our reach as they lie there, unable ot speak or respond in any way, but we are wrong. They can still hear what is said to them, even in what seems like deep unconsciousness; they can still be aware of touch... The dying need us to go as far as we can with them on the journey

I welcomed each pregnancy with thanksgiving. To feel life within my womb, little hands and feet tapping from within, this is extraordinary. Then the births. I entered into each one of them, feeling the crescendo of pain until it became so strong I felt I could not survive. In a way, I saw it like death. Prayer came easy.

Is itpossible to prepare for our death with the same attentiveness that our parents had in preparing for our birth?

Can we wait for our death as for a friend who wants to welcome us home?

Six weeks after my brother's death, the night came for Dad to die. The doctor came in telling us he could do nothing for him. And then, with a gasp, Dad took his last breath. The air was still and yet there was a Presence larger than life as Dad left his body. The Presence was palpable and real, yet unseen. I did not trust this, yet I knew it to be true. "It feels like a birth," my sisters said... Years later, I was sitting at my desk. Suddenly, I heard a voice, my father's voice. There was no one physically there. And yet, I heard my father speaking to me. "Bobby and I are together now. We are doing fine. We're with you more than you think."

When two persons want reconciliation through forgiveness, the whole cosmos is involved, and the energy springing from forgiveness is released for other forms of service. Forgiveness releases love for service. Forgiveness makes possible a deeper communication than that which existed before. One can begin to see another reason why forgiveness is so important. Its importance is on the scale of evolution and it springs from the Creator of evolution. It invariably releases love , and love is the energy of creation.

When I have forgiven myself and remembered who I am, I will bless everyone and everything I see.

Choice is your greatest power ... even a greater power than love, because you must first choose to be a loving person. Take the example of someone apologizing to you for having spoken thoughtlessly or hurtfully. In that one instant the power of transformation rests entirely with you. You can gtranscend the density of your anger and choose to forgive, transmuting that instant into an exchange that restores energy to both of you. Or you can repress your divine nature and cause the potential opportunity for healing to become a contaminated energy transaction.

To become a teacher of Love, we need only be willing to hear Love's Voice and no other. Our responsibility is to let fear and guilt be undone in us, so that this Voice is clear within us. The light of heaven stands behind the veil of unforgiveness that we have drawn between ourselves and others; a dhadow waiting for forgiveness to remove it at last. The light of God is then freed to shine through the heart and extend out into the world.

I used to think that forgiveness was a one-time and final act -- in one moment the pain subsides, and I say "I forgive," and it is over. But I have found that another day hidden memories spring forward from deep recesses of the mind and soul, and I must forgive again ... an ongoing project of the human soul.