Blessed are those who practice contemplative prayer before they sleep and those who promptly go back to it when they wake up. They eat a little, sleep, eat a little more and nestle in the Lord’s arms, like children who fall asleep on their mother’s breast after being fed, then they wake up, suckle some more and fall asleep again. Thus, in these radiant intervals, their time is spent more in contemplative prayer than in sleep . . . even though they have slept; when they wake up they know that their soul has slept in the Beloved’s arms.
This is from Yoga Nidra - Sleep of the Sages, a recent read and a favorite out of the selection of “night literature” I have been reading nowadays. This is a strange quote for me to carry forward as an affirmation, especially strange as I have no Lord to call Father nor have I been seeking the Mother. I have been using the metaphor of the lone wolf or the nomadic soul as the urge to navigate the internal layers often seems like a solo journey.
To be as innocent; as at peace; as accepting as an infant in all actions is a challenge for adults. I recently read elsewhere that ‘God is a nomad who has been extended to the heavens, remembering his dunes.’ And this phrase seemed strangely sad and forlorn. This phrase comes from a writing which is speaking of the transcendent God, a far cry from my beliefs . . . so perhaps the nomadic metaphor for myself is limited . . . Maybe it’s time to come home.
In these times in which it can be quite easy for the introverted soul to take pleasure in the quiet corners of the world, it is refreshing to know that there is still room to nestle (courie) in the communities that express love. I mistook courie for the French verb courir (to run) . . . In French, it can also mean to rush. Even in the solitude of our homes we can easily continue rushing around in our heads. Yet . . .Ça ne sert à rien de courir. Especially in this season. As a wise man here once said: “chunk down; chunk slow” . . .
I am swirling with pleasure right now, remembering past activities on this site. This revered community reverberates daily as I proceed with family and work and personal affairs. I long for the days in which I can give other’s written efforts their due response and for those times in which I could provide full attention to reading groups and gatherings in the Cafe. Here are a few selections of fiery memories rising from the ashes of the past:
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your fire meditation was great! Thanks for putting this together. We have a wood-burning stove active this time of year in our abode. Home is where the hearth is, I say! I wake at three am to let the cat out and restoke the fire. I have been practicing meditation before I go back to bed and will often use the fire as a meditative tool.
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Here is another poetic meditation by @Ariadne that stirs up the eternal flames: https://www.infiniteconversations.com/t/consuelos-de-cocina-by-ariadne/2532?u=douggins
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I am also reminded of @DurwinFoster’s father’s gentle website The Happy Seeker, perhaps the adorable doppleganger to The Sunny Optimist. There is something about aging that permits a certain breed of us to remain in the light during darker moments. I am reminded of your great support for my thoughts of “we can all be elders”; we can all support the community that we believe needs to flourish rather than support the large economies and spinning capital programs.
https://www.thehappyseeker.com/
In some sort of conclusion . . . yes! it is! Optimism fills the half-empty glass with an unimaginable love only felt in the hearts of those that dare drinketh. Thank you for reaching out Ann.