All meditation aims to bring the person, mind and body to silence, stillness and simplicity of spirit by means of an inner "object of attention". The act of attention is the inner sacrifice, and the work of paying attention is the school of letting go. The utter simplicity of such a way to joy and peace makes one laugh. God seduces us by simplicity.
It was Christ who chose the stable to be born in and who continues to choose unlikely places. In each of us, just beyond the noise of our outward life, there is some place of silence and darkness, an emptiness where, if we have courage enough, we are alone with ourselves. In this place of silence, we know that God alone can fill our emptiness, God alone can content us, God alone is our peace. And in this secret place of the soul, Christ wants to be born in us, that through us, God may live in this world again and make it new ... make it young and childlike ... make it true and pure. In this dark place of our heart, Christ wants the light of the world to begin to burn and from its burning to radiate, until it shines back from the face of humanity. Here it is that the light begins to shine in darkness and the life of the world begins again. It is easy to see that the world is wounded, hard to see that its healing begins in our own heart.
In silence which is active, the
Inner Light begins to glow -- a
tiny spark.
By an attention full of love,
we enable the Inner Light to
blaze and illuminate our dwelling
and to make of our whole being
a source from which this Light
may shine out.
~ from GOD IS SILENCE by Pierre Lacout with thanks to Donald & Lesley Holmes
For most of us, there is only the unattended
Moment, the moment in and out of time,
The distraction fit lost in a shaft of sunlight,
Hints followed by guesses; and the rest
Is prayer, observance, discipline,
thought and action.
The hint half guessed, the gift half understood,
is incarnation.
We realize ourselves, when we discover God. We discover a reality that is identical to ourselves, although a realm that transcends us infinitely ... a reality from which we are estranged, but from which we can never be separated ... In reality, in our search to know God, we realize our true selves.
So often, we forget how to pray. We forget that there must be a time when we are silent so we can hear what God wants to say to us. Yes, my friends, we must pray, the prayer of two people in love with each other who cease to talk. Their silence speaks. This is the kind of prayer that the poustinia will teach you. Resting in God's love, you will understand the unity God wishes for you. Then as a pilgrim, you will go forth and shout and sing about this to all peoples.
Two people in love! When you are in love with God you will understand that God loved you first. You will enter into a deep and mysterious silence and in that silence become one with the Absolute. Your oneness with God will overflow to all your brothers and sisters.
~ from FRAGMENTS OF MY LIFE by Catherine de Hueck Doherty
God answers us in the flesh of our experiences -- physical, emotional, intellectual, imaginative, spiritual. Prayers change us when we are answered by an expansion of self, by more self made more accessible to us. The words with which we pray to God lead us into ourselves, to hear that primary speech so actively discoursing within ourselves. New thoughts come to mind; we see new communications between things we were thinking. New ideas of what we should be doing spring up; a new willingness to do what we are doing arises. Old duties, as regular and onerous as daily housekeeping or office tasks, seem to fall into place and become less weighty and preoccupying. Energy to improvise and imagine different courses of action and ways of seeing things comes to us.
A paragraph from Frederick Franck's new book, A LITTLE COMPENDIUM ON THAT WHICH MATTERS, which he graciously sent to Friends of Silence, also speaks to this theme:
~ from A LITTLE COMPENDIUM ON THAT WHICH MATTERS by Frederick Franck
I have quitted all forms of devotion and set prayers but those to which my state obliges me. And I make it my business only to persevere in the Holy Presence, wherein I keep myself by a simple attention, and a general fond regard to God, which I may call an actual presence of God; or, to speak better, an habitual, silent, and secret conversation of the soul with God, which often causes me joys and raptures inwardly, and sometimes also outwardly, so great that I am forced to use means to moderate them and prevent their appearance to others.
~ from PRACTICE OF THE PRESENCE OF GOD by Brother Lawrence
Wouldn't you know it? Last autumn I became a seed and fell into the ground again. That is why I haven't written for a while. How could it always is in the soil. And dark. You can't imagine! But it doesn't matter whether there is light or not because you have no eyes. You feel all alone, and you don't know there are other seeds around you who are also trying to see. Then a little shoot begins to grow out of the top of your head and it starts to feel its way upward through what seems like all the dirt in the world. The ascent is long and hard; you believe it will never end. Then one day in May you break out and into the sun and air. Your eyes are restored, and, when you look around, there are poppies everywhere, all celebrating their own resurrection. What a feeling! I was just beginning to enjoy my own red blossom when a cold September wind stole into the valley and I returned to the ground. Now spring seems an impossible flower.
~ from JUNIPER: FRIEND OF FRANCIS, FOOL OF GOD by Murray Bodo
