Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet confinement of your aloneness to learn anything or anyone that does not bring you alive is too small for you.
It is not the thing you fear that you must deal with, it is the mother of the thing you fear. The very thing that has given birth to the nightmare.
Sometimes everything has to be inscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you.
Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into the conversation. Pay attention to everything in the world as if it’s alive. Realize everything has its own discrete existence outside your story. By doing this, you open to gifts and lessons that the world has to give you.
We withdraw not to disappear, but to find another ground from which to see; a solid ground from which to step, and from which to speak again, in a different way, a clear, rested, embodied voice we begin to remember again as our own.
The courageous conversation is the one you don’t want to have.
Gratitude arises from paying attention, from being awake in the presence of everything that lives within and without us.
Some things cannot be spoken or discovered until we have been stuck, incapacitated, or blown off course for awhile. Plain sailing is pleasant, but you are not going to explore many unknown realms that way.
If in your mind it was possible to take a year’s sabbatical from work to reassess your life, what would you do and where would you go?
I want to know if you are willing to live, day by day, with the consequence of love.
To have a firm persuasion in our work – to feel that what we do is right for ourselves and good for the world at exactly the same time – is one of the great triumphs of human existence.
Our work is to make ourselves visible in the world. This is the soul’s individual journey, and the soul would much rather fail at its own life than succeed at someone else’s.
What is precious inside us does not care to be known by the mind in ways that diminish its presence.
Whether we stay or whether we go – to be courageous is to stay close to the way we are made.
The moment you’ve uttered the exact dimensionality of your exile, you’re already turning towards home.
There is a lovely root to the word humiliation – from the latin word humus, meaning soil or ground. When we are humiliated, we are in effect returning to the ground of our being.