What a gift is the recognition of our multiple streams of time! Most of us have had some experience of breaking out of the monochronic monotony of one-thing-afteranother. Time flies; time crawls or stands still. We regularly experience the spectrum of party time, hanging out time, condensed time, wasting time, scheduled time, falling in love time, anxiety time, creative time, borning time, dying time, meditation time, timeless time. Ecstasy and terror have their own temporal cadences, and in high creative moments as well as in mystical experience, the categories of time are strained by the tension of eternity.
It may be that when we no longer know what to do,
we have come to our real work
and when we no longer know which way to go,
we have begun our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings.
Dear Friends, We stand on a threshold, peering at a new year, "full of things that have never been" (Teilhard de Chardin); an in-between space, suspended between what we think we know and worlds we cannot see, the ringing now before what comes next. We come to thresholds like these hauling courage with trembling hands. Will we step through to peril? to transformation? Sages say both. Yet we are not bereft. We can catch light for the journey, provisions for the road.
Resplendent and eternal is Wisdom,
readily perceived by those who listen
in the Silence of the heart.
Wisdom hastens to make Herself known;
She is available to all who love and seek Her, who awakens Her from within
will not be disappointed;
for Wisdom awaits at the threshold.
Now the old has already passed away<
But the new is too new to be born today
So I'm throwing out seeds on the winter snow<
As the cold wind begins to blow
Standing here on a new threshold
I can see a warm dim light in the window...
I pass from mystery to mystery, so I won't lie
I don't know what happens when people die
but I hope that I see you...
In the distance I see a glow
There's a light, there's a light, there's light
In the window.
I was beginning to realize that you must
come slowly to a place; wait a little before
feverishly resorting to guidebooks...Place
has a mighty tongue of its own.
Whether you know it or not, you were
born to have a rendezvous with destiny;
your journey toward it has already
begun. But my people make a distinction between destiny and fate. We don't think we are
born with a "fate" that impels us to act out some script composed by a higher hand, but
rather that each of us has a destiny, a preexisting pattern, which, in our hearts, we wish one
day to fulfill.
How do we hold both the magnificence and tragedy of the world, as if we stand at a threshold with Janus, the Roman god of beginnings and endings, looking in two directions? ...How do we find the way if we can't see around the bend? ...In our time of disturbance and radical change, we are crossing a threshold, a portal, or an unseen bridge from one world to another. It could be said that the bridge is either collapsing beneath us, or being made as we walk together...
~ from WILD FAITH by Geneen Marie Haugen (Garrison Institute blog entry)
Beginning well or beginning poorly, what is
important is simply to begin....Beginning is difficult,
and our procrastination is a fine ever-present
measure of our reluctance in taking that first
close-in, courageous step to reclaiming our
happiness...It is always hard to believe that the
courageous step is so close to us, that it is closer than
we ever could imagine, that in fact, we already know
what it is...
If you creep out down to the river in the light of a
full moon, you'll see her there, Old Crane Woman.
She'll be standing on one leg, still as can be, and
you'll know her by her frayed grey and white dress
and her long, thin arms with the sharp, sticking-out
elbows. She'll be staring into the river, for Old
Crane Woman knows that inspiration comes always
at the side of the water, there on the edge, in that
troubling threshold place between one element and
another.
Quiet friend who has come so far,
feel how your breathing makes more space around you.
Let this darkness be a bell tower
and you the bell. As you ring,
what batters you becomes your strength.
Move back and forth into the change...
In this uncontainable night,
be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses,
the meaning discovered there.
And if the world has ceased to hear you,
say to the silent Earth: I flow.
To the rushing water, speak: I am.
~ from SONNETS TO ORPHEUS, Part Two, XXIX by Rainer Maria Rilke
Anyone who has probed the inner life, who has sat in silence long enough to experience the stillness of the mind behind its
apparent noise is faced with a mystery. Apart from all the outer attractions of life in the world, there exists at the center
of human consciousness something quite satisfying and beautiful in itself, a beauty without features. The mystery is not so
much that these two dimensions exist – an outer world and the mystery of the inner world – but that we are suspended between them, as a space in which both worlds meet ... as if the human being is the meeting point, the threshold between two worlds.
Dear Friends ~ The expectant hush awaiting a baby's first breath, the temporary cessation of wind in the eye of a hurricane, the awkward pause in a conversational misstep, the profound stillness of woods blanketed in snow— there are so many kinds of silence. Silence can be sad or sublime, scary or sustaining; a fretful silence soaked in fear and anxiety or a silence pregnant with hope, expectancy, longing. Beyond, or perhaps within, these is the Silence of mystery, of luminous moments, and of communion.
Now let your great and wise and powerful
be as the poor and foolish little ones:
unembarrassed to receive the incredible gift,
and not knotted in guilt over your lack of worth,
and not struggling to "earn" what cannot be deserved,
but just simply, joyfully accepting of all
that is given so humbly and gladly in Love.
~ from ENCOUNTER AT BETHLEHEM by Jean Jones Andersen
The restless hollowness which surfaces into our consciousness when we reflect in silence is already the nearness of God, who is like the pure light which, spread over everything, hides itself by making everything else visible in the silent lowliness of its being. The
Incarnation urges us, in the experience of
solitude, to trust the nearness— it is not
emptiness; to let go and then we will find; to give up and then we will be rich.
And in the unknowing
I will be found and find myself.
In the unknowing is
the Love, the Silence,
the acceptance of just
Being in the yearning
and that – that is
Enough.
When I notice the spaces between sounds and the spaces between words and also the spaces between my thoughts and the background silence behind everything, I realize that all these spaces are the same space. This space is the entry point. It is the transformational vortex, the corridor, the window to Spirit.
The silence of the present moment was awe-inspiring in its power, oceanic was the word that came to mind, as it carried away everything in its path. The flow of our liturgy had become one with nature's incessant movement from light to dark and back again.
~ from DAKOTA: A SPIRITUAL GEOGRAPHY by Kathleen Norris
"How silent it is," he whispered. I started to shiver. The smoke from our stovepipe cast crazy shadows on the moonlit snow. "Come, let's go back in," he said softly. "Listen," I requested. The silence beat upon our empty ears. Not a sound. Nothing. My mind stretched into the
wilderness night, listening. It was different from the muffled silence of falling snow which sucks up every noise. Neither was it the silence of plugged ears. This was the clear, cold music of thousands of miles of nothing to hear. We lingered, breathing it in. "It's the silence of a million ears," I said at last. "Of life, waiting."
No writing on the solitary, meditative
dimensions of life can say anything that has not already been said better by the wind in the pine trees...or the silence and peace that is "heard" when the rain
wanders freely among the hills and forests. But what can the wind say where there is no hearer?
Silence wells up from an emptiness within us, but it is an emptiness freely and fully
accepted...A moment comes when silence alone can express the extraordinary richness in our heart. Such a silence enfolds a person gently and powerfully and always comes from within. It establishes a zone of peace and quiet around the one who is silent, where God can be irresistibly felt as present.
~ André Loup in THE WAY OF SIMPLICITY by Esther deWaal
