Do you sense me, ready to break
into being at your touch?
My murmurings surround you like shadowy wings.
Can't you see me standing before you
cloaked in stillness?...
I am the dream you are dreaming.
When you want to awaken, I am that wanting:
I grow strong in the beauty you behold.
And with the silence of stars I enfold
your cities made by time.
~ Rainer Maria Rilke translated by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy in A YEAR WITH RILKE
Monks call us to the simplicity of willing one thing: in a culture intent on a high standard of living, they insist on a high standard of life. Achievement versus grace: the exposure of the emptiness of fullness for the fullness of emptiness. The heart of this subversion is in planting within a person the appetite for silence. And once planted, once one tastes silence, and listening, and stopping, and being flooded by a Depth beyond all words ... once you do nothing, say nothing, think nothing, but just let yourself BE ... if you ever let this happen, it's all over for you. From then on, everything else seems insane.
~ from A SEASON IN THE DESERT by W. Paul Jones, thanks to H. A. Hull