Anthony de Mello - One minute wisdom

"Tony de Mello used to tell the story of a spiritual seeker who had arrived at a deep and loving union with God. His disciples were intensely curious about what the experience was like, but the master was most reluctant to say anything about the matter. One day his own son tried to pry the secret from him, and in a rare moment of candor, the father shared his feelings.

"I felt like a fool," he said.
"Why?" asked the son.
"Because," the father replied,
"it was like going to enormous trouble to enter a house
by climbing a ladder and breaking the window,
only to realize afterwards that the front door
had been open the whole time"

(One Minute Wisdom, 177).

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 It will only take a minute to read each of the anecdotes that follow. You will probably find the Master’s language baffling, exasperating even downright meaningless. This, alas, is not an easy book! It was written, not to instruct, but to Awaken. Concealed within its pages (not in the printed words, not even in the tales, but in its spirit, its mood, its atmosphere) is a Wisdom which cannot be conveyed in human speech. As you read the printed page and struggle with the Master’ s cryptic language it is possible that you will unwittingly chance upon the Silent Teaching that lurks within the book, and be Awakened — and transformed. This is what Wisdom means: To be changed without the slightest effort on your part, to be transformed, believe it or not, merely by waking to the reality that is not words that lies beyond the reach of words.
If you are fortunate enough to be Awakened thus, you will know why the finest language is the one that is not spoken, the finest action is the one that is not done and the finest change is the one that is not willed.

 

Heather K. O’Hara - That I Have Knelt in Temples

That I have knelt in temples
of winter stars and daffodils;
that I have danced through summer gardens
and lingered there;
that I have seen eternity
in a flash of autumn gold;
that I have become
a listener of leaves, an adorer of dawn,
a lover of hidden music—
that I have chosen all-of-this to fill the edgeless hour,
leaves not a syllable of distance
between myself and God.

 from The Path of Songs

QuantumGrace 

John O’Donohue - The name of this day

No one knew the name of this day;
Born quietly from deepest night,
It hid its face in light,
Demanded nothing for itself,
Opened out to offer each of us
A field of brightness that traveled ahead,
Providing in time, ground to hold our footsteps
And the light of thought to show the way.

The mind of the day draws no attention;
It dwells within the silence with elegance
To create a space for all our words,
Drawing us to listen inward and outward.

We seldom notice how each day is a holy place
Where the eucharist of the ordinary happens,
Transforming our broken fragments
Into an eternal continuity that keeps us.

Somewhere in us a dignity presides
That is more gracious than the smallness
That fuels us with fear and force,
A dignity that trusts the form a day takes.

So at the end of this day, we give thanks
For being betrothed to the unknown
And for the secret work
Through which the mind of the day
And wisdom of the soul become one.