I have the certainty that one day
we will go back into the vastness of the ocean.
We will be filled with grace and move effortlessly.
We will not need machines, nor need to invent anything.
I have the certainty that once more,
we shall be elegant creatures of the sea.
Inspiration: the world — too much metal, too much cement, too much noise.
There is a profound silence in a Bach Cantata. That silence can also be heard in the paintings of Caravaggio. A flower blooms in silence.
Yes, silence, because it is from silence, that deep internal silence, that inspiration rises and where creation is fully displayed.
And yet, only once you have learned to listen, really listen, and look, really look, can you hear that silence.
The only way you can learn is if your entire being becomes silence. For that you must nourish yourself with silence, breathe it, integrate it; hence allowing your ego to wither, finally unloading the heavy burden of self-centeredness.
You will then be open to that supreme spiritual experience that is wonder —and do not be surprised if it comes to you from the most humble of places.
Note: I only mentioned Bach and Caravaggio, for the sake of brevity. It applies to any work of art in any form, but with criteria, that moves you (and not just your hips!).
« L’amour, ce n’est pas faire des choses extraordinaires, héroïques, mais de faire des choses ordinaires avec tendresse. Je rêve d’un monde d’amour où les hommes n’auront plus peur les uns des autres. Il ne faut pas avoir peur d’aimer et de dire aux gens qu’on les aime. » Jean Vanier.
Une lumière s’est éteinte. Si vous ne le connaissiez pas, je vous recommande vivement de voir qui il fût, simplement par Internet.
A light went off. If you do not know who he was, I recommend you look him up through the Internet.
Photo via CNS.
Three in the morning.
I cannot sleep.
I wrap a soft shawl around me, and quietly open and close doors leading to the garden.
I walk slowly on the path between the roses, their scent barely perceptible in the cold of the night.
The Cross above the chapel is illuminated by the full moon. It shines in shades of pink amidst the giant pine trees to my right.
I breathe in silence.
Inspiration: Holy Friday (19 April 2019) at La Trappa, Cistercien Monastery, Michoacán, Mexico.
At dawn, a pigeon delivered a most important letter. The King had appointed me head of the aviary.
After the midday heat abated, I went to the palace to take my new office. The King gave me a special robe of celestial bleu and the golden key to the aviary.
As dark clouds gathered in the late afternoon, I walked to the aviary. With the golden key, I opened the cages and all the birds flew out.
Tonight, I sit alone smiling inside a cage. The King was rather displeased you see, and the golden key does not work on the lock.
“Love rests on no foundation.
It is an endless ocean,
with no beginning or end.
a suspended ocean,
riding on a cushion of ancient secrets.
All souls have drowned in it,
and now dwell there.
One drop of that ocean is hope,
and the rest is fear.”
Translation by Shahram Shiva.
The wrong light —
loud and brash
the one of multicolored awnings and incandescent screens.
— The one where you lose yourself.
The wrong light —
uncouth and effortlessly seen
the one that sucks in the lost and the desperate.
— The one that keeps you away from yourself.
Be careful when you walk the path.
Don’t be lured by complicated glitter.
Light is a river of overflowing splendor.
It shines yet does not blind.
Its rays are strong yet embrace you with infinite tenderness.
This is the Light that shatters your deepest misgivings.
It is the one of grace and infinite mercy.
The one of simple joy.
— The very one that is within you.