Ruah Bull - Spiritual Director

 The more I am hollowed by the fire, the more my ribs spread like the tree of life. The more I am washed by the tears of others, the more my heart rounds like an ocean shell. The more stories I tell of how one picks up another, the more my hands open like scoops for grain. To be what others drink, to be what others stand on, to reach what they love- we should be so lucky to be worn to this,

Great Spirit Remove from me All that gets in the way Of my being who you ask me to be So that I might  do What you ask me to do 

 We would rather be ruined than changed We would rather die in our dread than climb the cross of the moment and let our illusions die

 We are emptiness like hollow in the reed, the narrow riftless emptiness which can have only one destiny: to  utter the song that is in the piper's heart. ... The reed grows by the stream. It is the simplest of things, but it must be cut by a sharp knife, hollowed out, stops put in it. It must be shaped and pierced before it can utter the shepherd's song. It is the narrowest emptiness in the world, but the little reed utters God's infinite music. We are lifted up and carved out, formed and shaped and filled with all the music of the earth.

 Everyone assumes That the perfumes of August Are the work of springtime's buds Ageing into blooms. But the fading rose, In her dying, knows, It is the joy of ceasing That distills perfume.

 Love is a place & through this place of love move (with brightness and peace) all places Yes is a world and in this world of yes live (skillfully curled) all worlds

 Sharing bread and wine- This time no passing over- We come here to die Tender fear - fueled wound- Tight pretending to be god- Comes now to the cross In anguish and love- Our suffering God with us- We release the lie And surrender, Resurrected and restored, Into the God We are.

 Even if I don't see it again - nor ever feel it I know it is - and that if once it hailed me it ever does -  And so it is myself I want to turn in that direction not as towards a place, but it was a tilting within myself, as one turns a mirror to flash the light to where it isn't - I was blinded like that - and swam in what shone at me only able to endure it by being no one and so specifically myself I thought I'd die from being loved like that,

 To get to you, I travelled light years Through cosmic storms and dust, Only to find you sleeping on your simple cot. Stepping back, I folded, Quietly, My gray ragged wings. I could see why he chose you,  The glow of your pure breath.... I didn't mean to frighten you, Just wanted to keep looking.... I wanted to breathe in your innocent air, look at your soft, Surrendered hands.... Another second.... Before I told you the news,

 Let my edges that cut be stroked by sand and salt let my slick surface coarsen til it's crushed to bits let my colors soften as they scrape the bottom let the waves love me in their rough way let me be changed by that love let me not forget I held another yet fully inhabit my particularity let me be smooth enough to be rubbed by small fingers and slipped inside a pocket or bowl let me prove that beauty is born when something breaks.

  I would live in your love as the sea-grasses live in the sea, Borne up by each wave as it passes, drawn down by each wave that recedes; I would empty my soul of the  dreams that have gathered  in me, I would beat with your heart as it beats, I would follow your soul as it leads

How surely gravity's law, strong as an ocean's current, takes hold of even the strongest thing and pulls it towards the heart of the world. Each thing - each stone, blossom, child - is held in place. Only we, in our arrogance, push out beyond what we belong to for some empty freedom. If we surrendered to earth's intelligence we could rise up rooted, like trees. Instead we entangle ourselves in knots of our own making and struggle, lonely and confused. So, like children, we begin again to learn from the things, because they are in God's heart; they have never left him. This is what things can teach us: to fall, patiently to trust our heaviness. Even a bird has to do that before he can fly.