Ineffable One, there is a haze of wanton disregard fogging the window to my soul; a fog of discontent that swirls around my deepest knowing; an arrogant knowing where, in it’s place, I need unknowing. Holy One, relieve me of foolish trust in my ability to live in perfection. Let loose the hounds of irreducible …
There is a state of being available to all persons everywhere that is readily found in that which most thrills the soul.
Music, writing, and poetry have always been the primary means by which I engage the Holy. More correctly, it is God’s way of assuring access to me, to my deepest parts. Perhaps it is the same for you?
I’m finding my soul’s middle ground. I bellow the fire of my spirit by smooring the fire in the hearth.
“The mysterious geography of prayer must begin in the cracks and fissures of the human spirit before it gets the added benefit of the babbling brook heard just outside the monastery gates.”
God’s about to mess in our business. And, when God sends a star, follow. When darkness has reigned and light is given, open your eyes and move toward it. There, as we lay our gifts before the One we cannot possibly understand or apprehend, we receive the greatest gift of all – life, and that more abundantly.
“Mam, we are Trappist Monks. We don’t guide people in the rules of discernment”…
When I practice this prayer I find a magnificent invitation for my soul to morph from the deep dark into an expansive dawning…
