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I like the notion of just laying here and hanging out with god.

There is nothing else to do, and I am very tired,

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If I thought I would live long enough

and have an appetite again,

I would make little cucumber sandwiches

with English cucumbers,

chopped fresh Dill

and whipped cream cheese.

I would spread it on soft white bread

with the crusts cut off and cut into triangles

Perhaps serve it with English tea,

If I would live long enough.

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Of what / who

do we speak,

when we say:

“Morning Light,

Cause of our Joy”?

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Looking at the wave.

One wave (among so many) -

The way it curls and catches the light,

and rolls at the surface of the deep waters

then folds itself

into the sea.

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Ruth Burrows poem:

On Palm Sunday we reach the quayside.

A great ship is fretting at the moorings, sail unfurling in the bright sunshine; a beautiful ship with the line and grace of a bird.

A cry goes out from it: 'All on board!' and eager hands reach out to help us onto the deck; the hands of those who have made the journey before us and whose home is in the land to which we are invited.

This great ship of Holy Week will carry us surely, strongly, into the Passion of Christ. On the prow is blazoned the name 'Love's Victory’.

All we have to do now is board the ship and allow it to take us all the way. We have nothing else to do but let it take us.

We have not to do the navigating ourselves, we have not to labour with the oars, we have not to see where we are going or what distance we are covering: all that is being done for us.

We have only to say, 'Let it be done. Give me all you want to give. Be my Saviour, be my God.' Let us then board the ship full of humble gratitude and trust.

'But I have not got to the quayside even. It seems to me I have wasted Lent wrapped up in myself.’ Never mind.

Here you are, brought by the community of the Church. Get on board. Don't waste further time in useless lamentations which give no joy to God.

Get on board.

The moorings are cast, the sails billow in the breeze, and we are carried off deep into the mystery of Jesus.

Image: "The Mystical Boat", by Odilon Redon

#PalmSunday #HolyWeek2024 #HolyWeek

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I’m one of the undiscovereds,

the invisibles,

the nobodies of the world.

There are so many of us (most all of us).

We have things to say,

We have a part to play.

We live our lives without recognition,

but that doesn’t take away

from our importance.

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Nobodies.

———

There are a lot of nobodies in the world.

People who don’t have to make a splash.

———

Cloister. From Latin, CLAUSTRUM, “enclosure”.

If you have a cloistered way of life, you are not involved in the normal busy life of the world around you

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A lot of unimportant inner litter and bits and pieces have to be swept out first. Even a small head can be piled high inside with irrelevant distractions. True, there may be edifying emotions and thoughts, too, but the clutter is ever present. So let this be the aim of the meditation: to turn one’s innermost being into a vast empty plain, with none of that treacherous undergrowth the impede the view. So that something of “God” can enter you, and something of “Love,” too. Not the kind of love-de-luxe that you can revel in deliciously for half an hour, taking pride in how sublime you feel, but the love you can apply to small, everyday things.

- Etty Hillesum

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Sleeping in Sacred Space

Cherokee descendent and theologian Randy Woodley describes the sacred power of giving oneself over to nature in the vulnerability of sleep:

Sleeping in the bosom of nature is not the same as sleeping in the safety of one’s own home. Not at all. As you lay your body down to become one with the Earth, reality shifts. In that state, you can sense that God, Creator, is listening to the intentions of your heart. Whatever the mysterious power is behind creation, it softens one’s mind. Great Mystery unscrews the tight lids of the jars of certainty that you hold too tightly, too fiercely. You realize, sometimes even trembling, that something greater than yourself is meeting you.

There, in the restful unknown world between sleep and wakefulness, you give yourself to those elements, to Spirit, in the kind of vulnerability a newborn to the world must experience.

As I dozed off into the realm of sacred beauty next to that stream, I listened to how the water responded to each rock, to every branch protruding from the creek bank, and to the swirl of every curve as it meandered past me and into some other creature’s nap. With each contact, the water had a particular note and registry of sound.

Over the rocks, around the curve, and down the path of its sacred water journey. Sacred sleep. Sacred water. Sacred life.

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Such words as “god” and “death” and “suffering” and “eternity” are best forgotten. We have to become as simple and wordless as the growing corn or the falling rain. We must just be. - Etty Hillesum

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Our true nature is stillness,

The Source from which we come.

It manifests within us

As a rising tide of silence,

A flowing stream of peacefulness,

A limitless ocean of calm,

Or just sheer stillness.

The deep listening of pure contemplation

Is the path to stillness.

All words disappear into It,

And all creation awakens to the delight of

Just Being.

- Thomas Keating

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Just sit.

Be.

Relax.

Feel the wind pass over you.

Look at the sky.

Be ok with where you are and how you are.

Passivity: Back down. Sit down. Lay down. Roll over.

Anyway, I’m still learning that. And practicing it. Like a meditation. My time in the pool is meditation.

Breathing is more predominant than thinking.

I’m doing this day by day.

Following. Not sure what I’m following but pretty sure that I’m following something.

A direction? A person? Something.

Becoming more convinced that the old way of sizing up Reality is not quite “right”. In fact, may be way off the mark. I’m not really on the mark now, but hovering around in No Man’s land. Yet still following.

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Betz,

you've been on my mind the past few months.

I wanted to see you since I am going to West Palm in 10 days to see my brother.

Are you ok? I fear not.

Have missed you. Love you.

Cher

I don’t even know how to answer messages! When is 10 days?? ❤️❤️