When I run after what I think I want, my days are a furnace of stress and anxiety; if I sit in my own place of patience, what I need flows to me, and without pain. From this I understand that what I want also wants me, is looking for me and attracting me. There is a great secret here for anyone who can grasp it.
This silence, this moment, every moment, if it's genuinely inside you, brings what you need. There's nothing to believe. Only when I stopped believing in myself did I come into this beauty. Sit quietly, and listen for a voice that will say, 'Be more silent.' Die and be quiet. Quietness is the surest sign that you've died. Your old life was a frantic running from silence. Move outside the tangle of fear-thinking. Live in silence.
Don't run away from grief, o’ soul/ Look for the remedy inside the pain/ because the rose came from the thorn/ and the ruby came from a stone.
Be like the sun for grace and mercy. Be like the night to cover others' faults. Be like running water for generosity. Be like death for rage and anger. Be like the Earth for modesty. Appear as you are. Be as you appear.
Someone who does not run toward the allure of love walks a road where nothing lives.
You had better run from me. My words are fire.
The lovers of God never run out of patience, for they know that time is needed for the crescent moon to become full.
Run from what's comfortable. Forget safety. Live where you fear to live. Destroy your reputation. Be notorious. I have tried prudent planning long enough. From now on I'll be mad.
Each moment from all sides rushes to us the call to love. We are running to contemplate its vast green field. Do you want to come with us?
The intellectual is always showing off, the lover is always getting lost. The intellectual runs away. afraid of drowning; the whole business of love is to drown in the sea. Intellectuals plan their repose; lovers are ashamed to rest. The lover is always alone. even surrounded by people; like water and oil, he remains apart. The man who goes to the trouble of giving advice to a lover get nothing. He's mocked by passion. Love is like musk. It attracts attention. Love is a tree, and the lovers are its shade.
In the slaughterhouse of love, they kill only the best, none of the weak or deformed. Don't run away from this dying. Whoever's not killed for love is dead meat.
Love is a madman, working his wild schemes, tearing off his clothes, running through the mountains...
Be helpless, dumbfounded, Unable to say yes or no. Then a stretcher will come from grace to gather us up. We are too dull-eyed to see that beauty. If we say we can, we’re lying. If we say No, we don’t see it, That No will behead us And shut tight our window onto spirit. So let us rather not be sure of anything, Beside ourselves, and only that, so Miraculous beings come running to help. Crazed, lying in a zero circle, mute, We shall be saying finally, With tremendous eloquence, Lead us. When we have totally surrendered to that beauty, We shall be a mighty kindness.
Your heart knows the way. Run in that direction.
This mirror inside me shows. I can’t say what, but I can’t not know. I run from body. I run from spirit. I do not belong anywhere.
From "Wetness and Water" How does a part of the world leave the world? How can wetness leave water? Do not try to put out a fire by throwing on more fire. Do not wash a wound with blood. No matter how fast you run, your shadow more than keeps up. Sometimes it's in front. Only full, overhead sun diminishes your shadow. But that shadow has been serving you. What hurts you blesses you. Darkness is your candle. Your boundaries are your quest.
Someone who does not run toward the allure of love walks a road where nothing lives. But this dove here senses the love hawk floating above, and waits, and will not be driven or scared to safety.
You run back and forth listening for unusual events, peering into the faces of travelers. "Why are you looking at me like a madman?" I have lost a friend. Please forgive me.
The spirit and the body carry different loads and require different attentions. Too often we put the saddlebags on Jesus and let the donkey run loose in the pasture.
Hungry, you're a dog, angry and bad-natured. having eaten your fill, you become a carcass; you lie down like a wall, senseless. At one time a dog, at another time a carcass, how will you run with lions, or follow the saints?
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