Spring can be the most difficult season of the year catching us between the rising tide of life and the damp caverns of memory that lie among the sleepy roots of our being. It is time to attend the soil that has lain fallow for many months -- we are, after all, animated ground. April can be an agitating month, leaving us to ride out this new, insistent life from places inside us never before reached. Kites, in the driven skies, tug at thin strings that tether them to earth, just as our souls tug at our bodies. Swallows and purple martins dive heart-stoppingly into the emptiness. Something light and lithe in us responds. . . . We are, after all, much more than rational beings.
Another silence began, rich and profound. I looked at the next question on my list and laughed. "You work in silence. This is because silence is the ultimate and final initiation, isn't it?" "Yes." Ma adjusted the bangle on her right wrist. "Why is silence powerful?" "God is silent. Everything comes out of silence. In silence more work can be done. the true experience of Bliss is without words." The silence returned, this time ringing with her sound.