Keep hunkering down, down, down to the rock of your Being. To that immortal Diamond of Self that lies beyond time and cannot be diminished by the very real traumas of our world. It's what we have to do. We can not afford to be identified at the very important yet incomplete psychological level alone, always at the whim of the endless dramas surrounding us. We have to take seriously the work of cultivating our connection to that place in us that is not the totality of God but is also not other than God. As we do this, something else can happen. We can be very very very present to the pain and the suffering, offering that presence not only to ourselves, but to those closest to us in our lives, and perhaps even further. We can begin to digest the pain and suffering, the trauma from an endless source of inner resilience. I find this writing by Alfred K. LaMotte to capture our invitation deliciously. "We now enter the times of the shaking. What can be shaken will be removed, so that what cannot be shaken may remain. We begin to see that our personality can be shaken, our emotions, our minds, our bodies can be shaken. Thrown back into that which is never shaken, we taste the eternal radiance of the Self. Find that in you which cannot be shaken. This is the crisis, and the opportunity, of our time. The crisis is not race, or gender, or disease, or economic woe. The crisis is an invitation. An invitation to distinguish the changing from the unchanging. In the silent core of your heart, discover the unshakeable. Discover the pure consciousness of the Self, in whom we are One. One human family. One divine sun with eight billion human rays. Touch the imperishable blue sky beyond the passing clouds. You are That. This is not a belief, but a direct experience, attained not by philosophy, or science, or politics, but by tapping the original seed, in the stillness of meditation. This is not "spiritual by-passing." It is touching the ground. The real. The eternal. We don't have to rise to the occasion, but fall. Fall inward. Collapse. Touch Being. The most fruitful work we can do, is to Be. I am afraid. I am uncertain. I am weak. But I Am. For just a moment, let me place no noun, no adjective after the verb. Here is what the stars are singing about. Here is what the silence of boundless night is breathing. I Am. Here is courage. Here is the heart.“ Amen May it be so. . . Heather
A Couple of Readings: “Mind that which is eternal, which gathers your hearts together up to the Lord, and lets you see that ye are written in one another's heart." — George Fox “Silence belongs to all of us — it is who we are, it is what we are. If we are to experience and embody authentic peace and love, if we are going to bring true healing to our wildly violent and endangered world, we are going to have to learn to live within this essence which joins us together as brothers and sisters, [as humans].” —Rober Rabbin “'Be understanding. Allow people into your own little universe,' says Sparky in the short film 'We’re All Human.' Having lived on the streets of Scotland after a family tragedy, he reflects on how crucial it is to truly see each other — in all of our humanness. What might it look like to see everyone whole, from your closest family members to distant strangers? And — honoring Br. David’s affirmation that our personal wholeness is bound to the wholeness of others — how might we go beyond a momentary seeing to seeing through to every person’s healing, thriving, and joy? Sparky reminds us: “We’re all made of the same stuff. We’re all made of stardust.” This truth calls us to affirm and tend the most essential aspects of what makes us human: the suffering, the capacity for joy, and the fundamental aliveness sourced in our breath. As you move through your days during these deeply concerning times, we invite you to gently hold these questions and the opportunity to see each other whole. ” — A Network for Grateful Living “What goes on in those silent depths during the time of Centering Prayer is no one’s business, not even your own; it is between your innermost being and God; that place where, as St. Augustine once said, “God is closer to your soul than you are yourself.” Your own subjective experience of the prayer may be that nothing happened —except for the more-or-less continuous motion of letting go of thoughts. But in the depths of your being, in fact, plenty has been going on, and things are quietly but firmly being rearranged. That interior awakening—is the real business of Centering Prayer…” — Cynthia Bourgeault
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