Wherever I am, the world comes after me.
It offers me its busyness. It does not believe
that I do not want it. Now I understand
why the old poets of China went so far and high
into the mountains, then crept into the pale mist.
Mary Oliver “The Old Poets of China”
I am my silence. I am not the busyness of my or the daily rhythm of my actions.
I am not the stuff that constitutes my world. I am not my talk. I am not my actions. I am my silence.
I am the Consciousness that perceives all these things. When I go to my consciousness,
to that great pool of Silence that observes the intricacies of my life, I am aware that I am me. I take a little time
each day to sit in silence so that I can move outward invalid into the great clamour of living.
Richard Wagamese, “Embers”
Listen in the silence.
Listen in the noise.
Listen for the sound of the Spirit’s voice.