Stopping Is A Spiritual Art.

The Redness Had Seeped From The Day And Night Was Arranging Herself Around Us. Cooling Things Down, Staining And Dyeing The Evening Purple And Blue Black.

The Only Way I Have Ever Understood, Broken Free, Emerged, Healed, Forgiven, Flourished, And Grown Powerful Is By Asking The Hardest Questions And Then Living Into The Answers Through Opening Up To My Own Terror And Transmuting It Into Creativity. I Have Gotten Nowhere By Retreating Into Hand-me-down Sureties Or Resisting The Tensions That Truth Ignited.

As An Adolescent, I Went To Charm School, Where I Learned To Pour Tea And Relate To Boys, Which, As I Recall, Meant Giving Them The Pickle Jar To Unscrew, Whether It Was Too Hard For Me Or Not.

The True Self Is Not Our Creation, But God's. It Is The Self We Are In Our Depths. It Is Our Capacity For Divinity And Transcendence.

The Monk At St. Meinrad Took His Hands And Placed Them On My Shoulders, Peered Straight Into My Eyes And Said, ‘i Hope You’ll Hear What I’m About To Tell You. I Hope You’ll Hear It All The Way Down To Your Toes. When You’re Waiting, You’re Not Doing Nothing. You’re Doing The Most Important Something There Is. You’re Allowing Your Soul To Grow Up. If You Can’t Be Still And Wait, You Can’t Become What God Created You To Be.