“My heart welcomes all forms:
It is a pasture for gazelles, a monastery for monks,
a temple for pagan idols, the Ka’aba of Mecca,
and the tablets of the Torah.
My religion is love.
Everywhere love’s caravans go, I follow.”

Ibn Arabi

“In each moment you must decide which is your master – the Truth or the ego.”

Maharishikaa Preeti

“The journeys of our lives are never fully charted. There come to each of us deserts to cross—barren stretches—where the green edge on the horizon may be our destination, or an oasis on our way, or a mirage that beckons only to leave us lost.

When fear grips the heart, or despair bows the head, may we bend as heart and head lead us down to touch the ground beneath our feet. May we scoop some sand into our hands and receive what the sand would teach us:

It holds the warmth of the sun when the sun has left our sight, as it holds the cool of the night when the stars have faded. Hidden among its grains are tiny seeds, at rest and waiting, dormant yet undefeated.

Desert flowers. They endure. Moistened by our tears and by the rains which come to end even the longest drought, they send down roots and they bloom.

May we believe in those seeds, and in the seeds within us. May we remember in our dry seasons that we, too, are desert flowers.”

Margaret Keip

“There is no insurmountable solitude. All paths lead to the same goal: to convey to others what we are. And we must pass through solitude and difficulty, isolation and silence in order to reach forth to the enchanted place where we can dance our clumsy dance and sing our sorrowful song – but in this dance or in this song there are fulfilled the most ancient rites of our conscience in the awareness of being human and of believing in a common destiny.”

Pablo Neruda, born on this day in 1904

“As you grow up, always tell the truth, do no harm to others, and don’t think you are the most important being on earth. Rich or poor, you then can look anyone in the eye and say, ‘I’m probably no better than you, but I’m certainly your equal.'”

Harper Lee, author of To Kill a Mockingbird, published on this day in 1960

“My brain is only a receiver, in the Universe there is a core from which we obtain knowledge, strength and inspiration. I have not penetrated into the secrets of this core, but I know that it exists.”

Nikola Tesla, born on this day in 1856

“The once-born are people who sail through life without experiencing anything that shatters or complicates their faith. They may have financial reverses, problems with their children, and so forth, but they always feel that a kindly God is controlling things. Twice-born souls, on the other hand, are people who lose their faith and then regain it, but their new faith is very different from the one they lost. Instead of seeing a world flooded with sunshine as the once-born always do, they see a world where the sun struggles to come out after a storm but always manages to reappear. Theirs is a less cheerful, less confident, more realistic outlook. God is no longer the parent who keeps them safe and dry. He is the power that enables them to keep going in a stormy and dangerous world. And like the bone that breaks and heals stronger at the broken place, like the string that is stronger where it broke and was knotted, it is a stronger faith than it was before, because it has learned it can survive the loss of faith.”

Rabbi Harold Kushner

“Though you are wise, be as a fool;
Though you can see, be as one blind;
Though you can hear, be as one deaf;
Patiently bear with all you meet,
and politely talk to everyone.
This practice surely will lead you
to the realisation of the Truth.

A thousand times my Guru I asked:
How shall the Nameless be defined?
I asked and asked but all in vain.
The Nameless Unknown, it seems to me,
Is the source of the something that we see.”

Lalla Ded (14th century Kashmir)

“This is the time of the great shaking. One of the terrible blessings of Kali Yuga is that what may be shaken falls away, so that what cannot be shaken may remain.
Our personality is shaken. Our emotions, minds, and bodies are shaken. Now, thrown back into what is never shaken, we drink from the unquenchable wellspring of pure consciousness.
Find That in you which cannot be shaken. This is the crisis, and the opportunity, of our time. The crisis is not race, or gender, or disease, or economic woe. The crisis is an invitation. An invitation to distinguish the changing from the unchanging.
In the silent core of your heart, discover the unshakeable. Discover the Self, who is uniquely your own, yet in whom we all are One. One human family, gathered round the same ancestral fire. One divine sun, with eight billion human rays. Now touch the imperishable blue sky beyond the passing clouds. You are That.
No mere belief or philosophy, this is a direct experience, attained not by science or politics, but by tapping the original Seed in the stillness of meditation. Nor is this “spiritual by-passing.” It is entering the ground, the real, the changeless, in the heart of the body.
We don’t rise to the occasion, but fall. Fall inward. Collapse. When you enter the catastrophe without resistance, you touch Being. And the most fruitful work you can do, is to Be.
Dwell in the uncertain and call it possibility. Drink from the unknown and call it wine. Savor one breath of silence through your most broken place, and call it bread. This feast is far better than a thousand right answers.
I am afraid. I am uncertain. Yet I Am. Just to Be is to be a survivor. If only for a moment, let me place no noun after the verb. Here is what the stars are singing about. Here is what the silence of boundless night is breathing. “I Am.” Here is courage. Here is the heart.”

Fred Lamotte

“When all around us voices are raised in anger, hatred spilling into the streets and sparking more hatred, sometimes the best we can do is to sink our hands into the soil.

Let the fights over abstractions ebb away, flow like water into the earth. Fill your fingers with dirt that is itself the product of rocks worn to powder over millennia, leavened with particles of other lives— lives of leaves and vegetables and other animals, once as warm and active as you are now. Everything dies and returns to its source, breaks down into the ingredients of some new life: bits of humus, squirming bacteria, a tiny egg.

This is real: the sun warm on your back, the soil cool under your bare feet, a tiny new stem that will unfurl to grow a sweet red tomato, and the hand of a friend gently helping you to rise.

Even on our most difficult days, we can touch the soil and be grateful for the earth and the love that sustain us.”

Elena Westbrook