Like waves at the ocean, there is a pause as one wave goes out before the next wave comes in. This pause is also in our breath, as we breathe in and then out, or in nature, when we stop talking and are drawn into silence. The silence, or stillness, has something to say to us that we do not yet know.

One woman spoke of a recurring dream that greatly disturbed her because she had no context in which to understand it.

I am in a clear, green river, resting in it,
flowing along in its currents.

The dreamer commented, “I keep having this dream. Is there something wrong with me? I’ve never spoken of this dream to anyone else.”

If the dreamer can acknowledge that the green stream isn’t outside herself, but is her divine nature, then she will be able to live in a wholly different way. Deeply conditioned to believe that the sacred could not be within her, it was difficult for her to trust this dream. Yet she was reassured that she was doing nothing ‘wrong’ by having such a dream, and was willing to allow herself this quality of peace, which the river evoked for her. All of us have an ancient memory of this peace, or stillness, which is why we long for it. But it takes many forms.

---

I dream of ancient blue tiles that also look completely modern, up-to-date. These blue tiles with desert colors evoke the longing of the heart to anyone who sees them.

---

This dream also reflects the collective longing for our essential nature, for peace. Often we have these dreams at a time when it’s urgent that we be called back to the foundation of our life.

---

I am told to pay attention to the space
between the petals of a flower.

---

There is a need for a quiet time each day, as distinct from gathering with others. It provides a space inside oneself. We sit still, aware of this inner space. Sometimes life will pull us into this depth. A few days after my father died, I went camping with my family. I rose early one morning to sit by the river. As I closed my eyes and listened to its rushing waters, I was drawn into a profound place of stillness and peace, while still able to hear the river. Out of this silence, I saw—as if in a dream, but I was not dreaming—the word centerpoint. This inner place is where we can open to the deeper meaning of our lives.

Learning the ways of being does not mean disengaging from life. Rather, it allows us to participate actively in a dance with life.  Most importantly, you can feel the strength that comes from this orientation towards our sacred center. You can feel it in your body, like breathing fresh air, for the light of the soul is in our cells. The soul is not accessible when we are too full—of ideas, of fear, of anxieties.

---

Someone tells me, “When a woman has anxiety at night,
it’s because she forgets that she rests in God.”

---