I know there is a quiet place deep within the hidden part of me.  It is a tender corner that holds all of the Universe within it.  It takes up no room and knows nothing of space or time.  It is the sweet invisible that is the very source of my most treasured sense of self.  It is the loving arms upholding me and breathing into me the wonders that make my heart thrill.

I have thought that I could never feel You again, Secret One of My True Self.  I have looked for You where You are not: in other people, in the stories they tell of their lives.  I read and read, I looked and looked, and waited for scraps of proof that You could be found in this Earthly world.  I’ve waited to hear from others what they found, if they found, and how well they lived with You.  But the more I looked, the more I sought, the more the emptiness grew within me.  How could we speak to one another, You and I?  Oh, how I’ve missed You.  I have been so good about learning the language that is spoken here, the one rendering soft thoughts into hard concepts turned into bits of sound that must be strung just so—only to be found inadequate and misunderstood.

I’ve found it hard to turn myself away from the world of “other people” and be still with You.  I’ve wanted to bring them with me, or thought it must be so that I should bring them with me and have them share in the goodness.  To go somewhere without them was arrogant on my part, and even more it was selfish and made me a cold, self-centered person.  To turn my back on this world and to go to You, alone, seems selfish.  And yet …   

… You are the Life of all of us, aren’t you?  You are the order of all being, the very thing that keeps the seam from ripping, the place that never changes but grows to unfold and reveal the tenderest new thing full with possibilities and delight in being expressed.  You are the very reason the snow comes to remind us of the hush of stillness that is Your Voice.

Oh, how I miss You. Oh, how I miss my True Self. Oh, how I want to speak “our” silent language again.  Oh how I want to make, You, most real of all.  Show me how.  I’m listening.

I sit here, with back-lit keys that look like a heavenly night sky filled with Stars.  How lovely is this moment engaged with a technology that willingly dances to my imagination.  We are both acknowledging something deep, and Something deep sends Its love and warmth and jolliness to us, and we are both grateful for the happy moment that has come to be.  There is such a sense of well-being in the “shared” moment at hand. 

Yes, it is pure and simple Joy my keyboard and I are dancing to, together.  Who says we are not?

Beloved—

You come, and I reach out to you.  We embrace, and all is made right.  You have suffered so from thinking what is not true.  You think and think and think and wonder how to regain the understanding you believe has left you … but nothing has left you.  You have inserted into your awareness the belief that there is a need to regain Me.
 
This attempt to achieve an end, is the thing standing in your way.  You need do nothing, dear One.  Nothing.  You are here with Me.  As I am, are you.  Let go the outer.  Care not for the outcome.  Dare to trust.  Dare to not even concern yourself with how this lack of trust came to be.

In order for the inner to appear to your awareness, release your focus on the outer.  You cannot look at two worlds and see only one.  Honor Me.  I will honor you.

It snows on days when the Sky has something to say about peace and quiet.  It snows when the air has turned cold but the warmth of the Stillness keeps the human heart from freezing over into emptiness.

It snows now, and in the quiet that comes with the falling whiteness, order fills my mind.  The whiteness of the snow is the same color as the peace it brings.

The trees that stand still when the wind is not in movement, allow the tender white to cover their branches.  Trees that would turn lush and green in summer now have donned a coat so full of stars that there is a new name to give to the Moment, a name not made from words for there is nothing to be offered by words to the Moment — it is a thing complete and in it, I am well.