Humility is not a matter of beating ourselves up. It is not a question of judging ourselves as stupid or sinful, as hopeless and bad. Who are we to judge these things? Humility, it seems, is the gentle acceptance of that most tender place inside ourselves that throbs with the pain of separation from the Beloved. It is that deep knowingness that identification with the false self brings nothing but further separation. It is an initially reluctant dropping down into the emptiness and an ultimate experience of peace when we stop doing and rediscover simple being . . . when we heed the call to cease creating and remember we are created.
Were You not to grant me the grace during the night-watchers of drinking the silence, of diving into it, of being soaked in it, How should I know that inner silence, without which one can hear neither others nor You?
We are each surrounded by an enormous silence that can be a blessing and a help to us, a silence in which the skein of reality is knitted and unraveled to be knit again, in which the perspective of work can be enlarged and enriched. Silence is like a cradle holding our endeavors and our will; a silent spaciousness sustains us in our work and at the same time connects us to larger worlds that, in the busyness of our daily struggle to achieve, we have not yet investigated. Silence is the soul's break for freedom.
We need silence to be able to touch souls. The more we receive in silent prayer, the more we can give in our active life. God is a friend of silence. The essential thing is not what we say, but what God will say through us.
Silence brings us far beyond soundlessness, it quiets our senses and spirit and tunes our heart for a deep and delicate listening. For, silence is a primal language which speaks and listens from the heart. It is not the only language through which we communicate with God, but it is a necessary second language since the knowledge of God is received in divine silence. Like all other languages, silence is easily forgotten without practice and discipline.
~ from "Silence as a Second Language"" by Joel Giallanza thanks to Bob Hope
To be able to enter daily into the silence without worries, fears, doubts, without plans of any sort, to say no more than, "I AM HERE" and to feel it so, simply and truly — is an act of faith, an exercise in openness, attentiveness, devotion. It will shape your soul to meet the Friend of your heart.
SILENCE, the pure objective awareness of being, is our "way without words." It opens us up to our deepest spiritual awareness. Silence is fertile soil. What we receive from this rich ground depends on what we put into it... seeds that we ourselves plant in our inmost silence. People who remain unconscious about their own spiritual life seem like irresponsible farmers: they devalue the land entrusted to their care.
Silence before God has deep significance: in the quietness of the soul the individual sinks into the central fire of communion... In the silent act of breathing and in the unspoken dialogue of the soul with God, solitary as these are, deep communion can be given.
The essence of silence is self-emptiness, docility, receptivity, detachment, desire, listening, communion. Every act of silence is a little Advent. A Luigi Giussaní sums it up, "Silence is not merely keeping quiet, but it is the attitude of one who lives standing before a 'You' who is presenting, entreating a 'you' who is present." Teresa of Avila refers to contemplative prayer as the "prayer of quiet." Such prayerful silence enhances our ability and eagerness to listen to our Beloved. In this silence, the one in love remains perfectly content just to behold the Beloved, gazing in a state of holy and tranquil abiding. Silence speaks to silence.
