I’m not quite sure when it was I first stumbled upon Linda’s blog at The Task At Hand where she writes under the name Shoreacres. It must have been about a year ago though because it was a post about the Christmas Snow of 2004 that first led me to her blog.
Her post today connected with what I call the sacredness found in those moments when we are open to the silence, the place, the oneness of our life and the world we live in…I could not have said it as well as she did here…
Wherever the mystery of connectedness surprises us – in a snowstorm-emptied New York street or a grove of mist-shrouded Redwoods, at a baby’s crib or a parent’s grave, in an empty classroom or an overflowing church, near a dawn-touched shoreline or in the fading shadows of a suburban yard, its nature is unmistakable, and the poet’s words apply:
If you came this way,
Taking any route, starting from anywhere,
At any time or at any season,
It would always be the same: you would have to put off
Sense and notion. You are not here to verify,
Instruct yourself, or inform curiosity
Or carry report. You are here to kneel
Where prayer has been valid. And prayer is more
Than an order of words, the conscious occupation
Of the praying mind, or the sound of the voice praying.
And what the dead had no speech for, when living,
They can tell you, being dead: the communication
Of the dead is tongued with fire beyond the language of the living.
T.S. Eliot ~ Little Gidding
If you haven’t had the chance to enjoy Linda’s writing…Take a few minutes and go explore her blog. If you are anything like me, you’ll come away moved by her words.
