Ron Rolheiser - In praise of Silence

Meister Eckhart, the German philosopher, mystic and theologian said, 

“There is nothing in the world that resembles God as much as silence.”

    In essence, Eckhart is saying this: Silence is a privileged entry into the realm of God and into eternal life.  There is a huge silence inside each of us that beckons us into itself, and the recovery of our own silence can begin to teach us the language of heaven.

    What is meant by this?

    Silence is a language that is infinitely deeper, more far-reaching, more understanding, more compassionate, and more eternal than any other language. In heaven, it seems, there will be no languages, no words. Silence will speak. We will wholly, intimately, and ecstatically hold each other in silence, in perfect understanding.

    Words, for all their value, are part of the reason why we can’t do this already. They divide as much as they unite. There is a deeper connection available in silence. Lovers already know this, as do the Quakers whose liturgy tries to imitate the silence of heaven, and as do those who practice contemplative prayer. John of the Cross expresses this in a wonderfully cryptic line: “Learn to understand more by not understanding than by understanding.”

    Silence does speak louder than words, and more deeply. We experience this already now in different ways: When we are separated by distance or death from loved ones, we can still be with them in silence; when we are divided from other sincere persons through misunderstanding, silence can provide the place where we can still be together; when we stand helpless before another’s suffering, silence can be the best way of expressing our empathy; and when we have sinned and have no words to restore things to their previous wholeness, in silence a deeper word can speak and let us know that, in the end, all will be well and every manner of being will be well.

    “There is nothing in the world that resembles God as much as silence.” It’s the language of heaven and it is already deep inside of us, beckoning us, inviting us to deeper intimacy with everything.

via louie, louie

Ron Rolheiser 

 

Chuck Hillig - The Great Paradox

The Great Paradox: There’s nothing that’s you
and, at the very same time there’s nothing that’s not you.
Here’s the height of spiritual irony:
The Teacher points directly to the Truth, but then the student
begins worshipping the Teacher.
Or, even worse, the student begins to worship
the pointer that the Teacher was using!
But, as Consciousness, Itself, you are really the
ultimate source of all of the great teachers.
You are really the ultimate Source of all of their
spiritual teachings.
You only created them in your personal drama
to remind you, again and again, about what you’re pretending to forget.
The teachers and their teachings both appear
…..and disappear…within the heart of who you are.

http://www.chuckhillig.com/

John O’Donohue - The invisible world

art Kopp-Delaney

 When you enter the world, you come to live on the threshold between the visible and invisible. You bring with you a sense of belonging to the invisible that you can never lose or finally cancel. There is always some magnet that draws your eyes to the horizon or invites you to explore behind things and seek out the concealed depths. You know that the real nature of things is hidden deep within them.

When you become aware of the invisible as a live background, you notice how your own body is woven around your invisible soul, how the invisible lives behind the faces of those you love, and how it is always there between you. The invisible is one of the most powerful forms of the unknown. It envelopes our every movement. It is the region out of which we emerged and the state we are destined for, yet we never see it.

Excerpt from Eternal echoes

 

https://www.johnodonohue.com/ 

 

 

Mark McCloskey - Just this, just here, just now

Just this, just here, just now. There is nothing else. There is nowhere else. There is nothing more. 

This is all.

All the seeking, all the words, the journey, the lies and the truths, the visions, all point back to 

just this, just here, just now.

Convincing me or coercing you has no meaning. Negating all else fails, I can just breath, simple, free and the light is switched on, the echo is dimmed, the fabric is torn and then mended again and again, 
just this, just here, just now.

Grande discourses on existential blissing out moves me further away and many miracles linger obsessing again and again, furtive reconnections with paradise gained and regained.

Dancer or human, both and neither, sameness and itsy bitsy differentiation or a method to maneuver mournfully away from the mess I have created and you have swallowed, the red pill or was it blue?

Commandment? Nope! Visage? So what!  Italics, a bold cavern of labels and tears, jumbled together into a nightmare of trying to expect IT to happen but no way, the buck stops here: 

just this, just here, just now.

Are we done now, or undone? Yes, that is closer to the glory: undone but not undead. Will to go on, looking under wraps, ropes and rips and avoiding all the whips and wisps of gentle beckoning

-just do it man!

I am the Way, just This, I am the Truth, just Here, I am the Life, just Now. I Am. Are you?

 Pure Silence