Tonight, I walk. I am watching the sky. I think of the people who came before me and how they knew the placement of the stars in the sky, watching the moving sun long and hard enough to witness how a certain angle of light touched a stone only once a year. Without written records, they knew the gods of every night, the small, fine details of the world around them and the immensity above them.
Walking, I can almost hear the redwoods beating....It is a world of elemental attention, of all things working together, listening to what speaks in the blood. Whichever road I follow, I walk in the land of many gods, and they love and eat one another. Walking, I am listening to a deeper way. Suddenly all my ancestors are behind me. Be still, they say. Watch and listen. You are the result of the love of thousands.
Linda Hogan, Dwellings: A Spiritual History of the Living World
1 comment:
How else can i say this...
As the sacredness of silence yields...the secret of words
lays in the yearning to pray;
Prayer : not as a call to God,
but a moment of surrender to the quietess of this universe. A need to disolve into something thats greater than hope or joy.
The need
not to ask, or implore or beg.
As if in each day's sunrise breaking through the crust of the dawn so overwhelmingly one saw his own rebirth.
perhaps we do not realise but indeed at each dawn we are born
to fill ourselves more abunduntly than what our eyes can show
and take the opportunity to be beautiful.
Know this that no priest can tell you this
but your own heart; when it has travelled through the ceremonies of its solitude,
through the deep woods of human anguish
and for the first time becomes aware how alive Peace is...
To receive it... the body has to release itself to an intense stillness.
A stillness
that is not forced upon by any technique
but as a spontaneous response of your entire being.
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