Fall and flow into this day like a quiet cloud whose moisture falls to the earth,
Becomes a stream,
Then a river,
And eventually joins the vast ocean.
What we used to be changes into what we are.
Even the quality of silence changes.
As I sit here meditating in the retreat center,
The silence deepens and deepens,
Pulling out of the old woodwork the ancient silences of priests long gone,
Except for their faded photographs lining the still stone hallways.
I am reminded that I still have my body,
Or more rightly said,
My body still has me.
Sometimes,
Of course,
It's hard to have a body,
This body.
But here it is,
And here I am.
Revisit your familiar body,
Toes up to hair,
To bring fresh energy for this new day.
While the seeds of all emotions are within us,
The fruits,
Given manure,
Water,
And sun,
Flourish only in their own time.
Offer these ingredients to your emotions,
And enjoy the harvest.
With the celebrations and excitement of harvest time,
We sometimes forget our deeper arches and hallways where spirits roam.
Extend a hand to your spirit,
Which may be familiar,
Yet lonely at the same time.
We must be spiritual friends to ourselves before we can be spiritual friends to others.
May the hallways of this day echo with the greetings of spirits in communion with each other.
Our gift today is fruition.