Home Page: Inspirations of Love and Hope

Tag: Rainer Maria Rilke style

  • To God’s Holy People

    To God’s Holy People

    (First Letter)

    This is the first in a new series of prayerful letters to my friends, rooted in Christian love and contemplative stillness.

    Thank you, Linda. 💛

    To God’s Holy People—
    You who dwell in mystery and light,
    in silence and in the ache of hope—
    I bring no sermon, no long-winded tale,
    only this stillness,
    and these few words
    like drops of dew upon a thirsty leaf:

    Let us always thank God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,
    when we pray for all that lives.

    I pray for you all—
    not only with words,
    but with the hush between thoughts,
    and the warmth that rises quietly
    when I remember your faces.

    When I write to you, I am also praying.
    Because every word carries an offering,
    and every silence listens for the Beloved
    who speaks in all languages of the heart.

    May you all be happy and well.
    May you all be free from suffering
    and the causes of suffering.
    May you all dwell in the peace of Christ,
    which surpasses all understanding.

    May your roots go deep into the soil of love.
    May your hands remain open,
    even when the world seems closed.
    And may the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ—
    the light that walked among us,
    and still walks within—
    be your lamp in the valley
    and your joy on the hilltop.

    May these few words become a door
    to the Word that cannot be spoken—
    the whisper in the whirlwind,
    the still small voice,
    the love that speaks in silence
    and calls us home.

    In Honor of the Quiet Ones

    For those quiet souls of the past—monks, sages, mystics, poets—
    who carved beauty from stillness and silence,
    often with nothing more than a candle and a pen.
    Their tools were few, but their hearts were wide open.
    In those spare rooms, they made space for eternity.

    🙏💛🙏

  • The Ego’s Journey from Separation to Enlightenment: A Union of Sufi, Buddhist, and Hindu Wisdom

    The Ego’s Journey from Separation to Enlightenment: A Union of Sufi, Buddhist, and Hindu Wisdom

    There is a moon that rises every night, a silent witness to the sun’s endless light. And yet, the moon itself knows no radiance, no brilliance of its own. It is only when the sun kisses its surface, that it shines, softly, luminously, reflecting a borrowed light. The moon is not the light, but through it, light is made visible.

    So too is the ego, that fragile vessel we cling to, believing it to be the source of our being. It moves through the world like the moon through the night, often unaware that it is not the origin of its own light. The ego believes itself sovereign, a solitary entity, and so it knocks at the gates of heaven. “It is I,” it says. “It is I, Lord.” But the voice from within replies, “I do not know you.”

    This exchange repeats in its cyclical fashion, a dance of self and selfhood, of claiming and denial, much like the phases of the moon—sometimes full with pride, sometimes waning in despair. Yet still, the light of the divine waits, unwavering, patient as the sun.

    And then, in a moment that cannot be forced, cannot be grasped, the ego begins to see the truth of its existence. It begins to understand the quiet grace of reflection. No longer does it knock at heaven’s door saying, “It is I.” Instead, it whispers, “It is Thee.” Not a cry of self, but a dissolution of self. “It is Thee, Lord.”

    And the door, which had remained closed to the insistence of the separate self, swings open. The voice within responds, “Welcome home.” For in that moment, the ego no longer stands apart. It has realized its true nature. It is no longer the moon, claiming a light it cannot possess. It has become the mirror, the perfect reflection of that which has always been.

    The old Sufi story of the ego’s journey, of its many attempts and its ultimate awakening, is not bound by any single tradition. It echoes through the teachings of the Buddha, who saw the ego as an illusion, a fleeting cloud that masks the vast sky of mind. It resonates with the Hindu wisdom that declares Atman is Brahman, that the self, when truly known, is not separate from the vast, eternal presence of the divine.

    When the ego comes to that door again, no longer clinging to its smallness, no longer insisting on its separateness, it is the same realization the Upanishads speak of—Tat Tvam Asi—You are That. It is the same grace that permeates the silence of the Sufis, the same light that breaks through the illusions of the mind in every tradition.

    And so, the ego, having traveled through the long night of its own illusions, finally sees the sun. It sees that it was never the source of light, but always the recipient. It sees that what it once called “I” is nothing but a reflection of “Thee.”

    In this union, in this homecoming, the ego dissolves like the moon fading at dawn. The self returns to the Self. The individual, once lost in its sense of separateness, is welcomed into the infinite. It is no longer the journey of ego toward enlightenment, but the realization that enlightenment was always there, waiting, shining patiently like the sun.

    The moon, now quiet and full of grace, no longer claims its own light. It simply reflects, perfectly, humbly, the light of the sun. And in that reflection, in that quiet surrender, it becomes one with the light itself. Welcome home, the divine says, and the journey is complete.

    🙏🕊️🙏