Ruah Bull - Spiritual Director

In the morning sun I royally rise. In the distant stars I playfully twinkle. In the ocean waves I gracefully dance. In the strong wind I freely move. In the red fire I wildly burn. In the tiny lark I joyfully sing. In the delicate flower I gently bloom. In the solid mountain I firmly stand. In the running water I fiercely flow. In the vast sky I endlessly expand. In the fleeting moment I repeatedly die. In the new inhale I reliably return. In each and every thing I really am.      

 It is as if what is unbreakable - The very pulse of life- waits for everything else to be torn away, and then in that bareness that only silence and suffering and  great love can expose, it dares  to speak through us and to us. It seems to say, if you want to last, hold on to nothing. If you want to love, let in everything. If you want to feel the presence of everything, stop counting the things that break along the way.

 The moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent  world in itself.

 Sometimes the mountain is hidden from me in veils of cloud, sometimes I am hidden from the mountain in veils of inattention, apathy, fatigue, when I forget or refuse to go down to the shore or a few yards up the road, on a clear day, to reconfirm that witnessing presence.

 May the tide never tire of its tender toil how over and over it forgives the moon the daily exile and returns to turn mountains into sand as if to say, You too can have this homecoming you too possess this elemental power of turning the stone in the heart into golden dust

 Whatever it is, I cannot understand it,  although gratitude stubbornly overcomes me until I am reduced to tears.