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from The Pool

When I was young, in my best years,

first blessed by the Shechinah,

still knowing dumb longing and wonder

and how to find a secret prayer place,

I used to take off on a hot summer's day

to the grand kingdom of peace -

the thick of the forest.

I wandered hours alone on a track

known only to wolf and brave hunter

through God-like trees

where no sound of axe was ever heard,

meditating on myself and my God till I came,

passing over traps of gold,

to the holy of holies -

My coming to faith did not start with a leap but rather a series of staggers from what seemed like one safe place to another. Like lily pads, round and green, these places summoned and then held me up while I grew. Each prepared me for the next leaf on which I would land, and in this way I moved across the swamp of doubt and fear. When I look back at some of these early resting places - the boisterous home of the Catholics, the soft armchair of the Christian Science mom, adoption by ardent Jews - I can see how flimsy and indirect a path they made.

A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern himself with his shadow on the wall. Speak what you think now in hard words and tomorrow speak what tomorrow thinks in hard words again, though it contract everything you said today. "Ah, so you shall be sure to be misunderstood." - Is it so bad then to be misunderstood?

A great teacher once told his students to fill a sieve with water. A few laughed and said, "It cannot be done," and left. A few students poured water into the sieve but got discouraged when it immediately drained out. One student sat quietly for a long time looking at the sieve. She then got up and threw the sieve into the ocean. "Now it's full of water," she exclaimed. The teacher smiled at his masterful student. "We achieve success in life," he commented, "not when we try to fill ourselves up but when we see ourselves as fullness to be shared with others."

The silence is all there is. It is the alpha and the omega, it is God's brooding over the face of the waters; it is the blinded note of the ten thousand things, the whine of wings. You take a step in the right direction to pray to this silence, and even to address the prayer to "World." Distinctions blur. Quit your tents. Pray without ceasing.