Perhaps last night’s journaling sensed what would come to life at 2am as I watched the night sky from the River House deck.
A shooting, falling star is like “a bright, fragile ‘I am'” … “As our metal eyes wake / to absolute night, / where whispers fly / from the beginning of time, / we cup our ears to the heavens.” ~ We Are Listening by Diane Ackerman
#poetry #listen #journalingforthesoul #vondadreesart
“… And the light shone in the darkness and / Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled / About the centre of the silent Word…” T.S. Eliot goes on to ask, “Where shall the Word be found, where shall the Word resound? Not here, there is not enough silence.”
“The utter vulnerability of silence” is a phrase from a recent Richard Rohr Daily Meditation that caught my attention, so I gave it a home in my journaling.
Later I added “echoes Christ.”
It’s a mystery to me why this image on silence is one that I’m choosing to share, especially after a weekend that was about women giving voice to an alternative vision.
The utter vulnerability of silence echoes Christ.
I do know that when my own activity is rooted in the quiet, I tend to be more true to who I am and act with more intention toward what I believe.
May we all have the courage to both enter the silence and echo the Christ in our lives.
Still working my way through sharing the pages created during Advent, although my heart this morning is holding vigil for the Holy Innocents.
The second photo is our labyrinth before re-blazing it last night. There is no filter on the photo, just nature’s twilight.
What keeps my heart awake is colorful silence. ~Claude Monet
Solitude teaches us to be present.
Silence teaches us how to listen.
Stillness helps us develop discernment.
A day of silence can be a pilgrimage itself. ~Hafiz
Silence is the think tank of the soul.
~Gordon Hempton, audio ecologist
Silence brings us back to the basics, to our senses, to our selves. It locates us. … nurtured in silence our awareness can lead us back to integrity and meaning.
~Gunilla Norris, Inviting Silence
I had an experience recently that brought these words to life. I was standing still in the woods after my morning run and I noticed my breath in the air. This is not something that happens a lot in warm Texas; there must have been considerable moisture in the air that morning. As I was watching my breath, at the perimeter of my vision I also noticed the ground was breathing. My breath within a Greater Breath.
Can I weave a nest of silence,
weave it of listening,
Layer upon layer?
Beyond the question,
Before the answer,