silence so golden-ly sweet

I must be in a decently centered footed emotionally stable place as I can be slightly amused and slightly perturbed at the same time…

at all the yappin “!   Holy Moly these people can prattle on.

Vicissitudes asking for some Franciscans:

Seeking the soft breath of not having to defend myself, I can access the core of that place of Faith in me that all will be provided, and my description of my (always way-too-underinformed) opinion can feather off in the breeze. No matter, no weight, no gravity, and certainly no permanence or capital-T Truth to it.  Off fluttering in the winds of change with you, oh gentle perspective !

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-====  (that was a fun ten-seconds of alternate finger-ing ~~ wish there’d been a keyboard under me 🙂      Back to our regularly-evolving programming:

Who is wise?
He that learns from everyone.
Who is powerful?
He that governs his passions.
Who is rich?
He that is content.
Who is that?
Nobody.

~ Benjamin Franklin ~

 

I’ve been enjoying morning time, which feels both very quiet and very productive at the same time.  Our western education doesn’t pair these things often; it is ongoingly suggested that the success is in the motion/action/DOING/*getting*somewhere, and so to my scientist mind, it is still antithetical that stillness and contemplation can be creative.

The metaphysicians speak of “demonstration” as the real world appearance of thought, intention made matter.

This transformation of idea to the material seems to be the channeling of the vital energy — call it the Holy Spirit caught on film ? — and the space of accessing the harness, getting traction, is silence and stillness.  In the Being, there is con-tract-ion, the field of the infinite be-come-ing “real” and tangible. With this stillness, we can ex-tract and clarify, purify, codify, preciously hold and (for the meditative moment) preserve… and here is the innocence –literally the un-thinking, flopping of the ego — so blissfully fluttering with the offerings of the Universe in blessed Channel-of-thy-Peace St. Francissitude (!)

Reveling in the deliciousness of the growth edge becoming the growth edge becoming the growth edge, becoming the growth edge… becoming… the growth… edge…

And who AMI to interrupt ?   Not that there is anything wrong with my attentions, I can fully accept that where I say so, IAM, and just for a moment the growth is arrested for to celebrate my ego, inside the sensory pads of me as the the Fingertips of God.  Just my little private showing of the splendiferous unfolding of the almighty (small a, as far as iam concerned, until I give in to  my own suggestion that IAM, where ego softly steps stage-left ), and I get to choose to flip the channel or pull the plug at any chapter.

“When he was accused by the chief priests and the elders, he gave no answer. Then Pilate asked him, ‘Don’t you hear the testimony they are bringing against you?’ But Jesus made no reply, not even to a single charge—to the great amazement of the governor.”
(Matthew 27:12-14, NIV)

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