Some songs I’ve been listening to:
When sensitive souls try to find their way to God, they sometimes try too hard to love Him just right. By this I mean only that, sometimes, the desire to know God and do good is so strong that it clouds the soul with thoughts of perfection–and the soul, seeing this image of the perfect, may interpret its task on Earth to reflect this perfection in everything it does.Â
Now, this is not a bad thing, at its core–the desire to reflect God is part of our mission as children of Christ. But when the mind comes in and dialogues with the soul–it can sometimes misappropriate this sense of “perfection” for its own ends, and that’s where the trouble begins.Â
For during our time on this Earth, when our bodies are struggling to keep up with our souls, it is impossible that we should ever be perfect in all we do. We can try our best to make our efforts match the intensity of our desire to do right–but the striving and the labor will sooner or later tire us out, and we will be forced to take our rest.Â
So when you feel a growing sense of inner strain–the sensation that you are somehow at odds with yourself–you are measuring yourself against a standard that exists independently of who you really are. For when we act in alignment with our innermost self, we experience a harmony that permeates everything we do. To live in a state of self-fracture and distress: this is the sign of trying to be too many things at once, or trying to be something that God has not ordained us to be. It is only natural that, for a person who seeks to be good, the desire to move beyond one’s limits is keenly felt; but when this desire leads to dissatisfaction with the self, and an inner refrain of worry, something has gone awry.Â
God, we forget, is simple and kind, and is happy when our hearts are fixed on Him. He sees the intentions of the heart, and cares less about the results than the spirit that animates them. If you focus on doing your work with an attentive spirit, you can trust that He is working through you. Sometimes, this means being patient with yourself and choosing to believe that the invisible work is more important right now than the visible work–in other words, that the things God is accomplishing in your soul hold more weight than observable metrics like productivity or promotion at the office.Â
This is not to say that we shouldn’t care about such outward things. Of course, when we’re tasked with doing a job, we want to do it well, and we wish to stretch our talents so that they bear good fruit. But the thing to remember is simply this:Â “first clean the inside of the cup … and then the outside also will be clean.” When we take care of the inner things, and develop peace in our souls, our outer lives will sooner or later catch up and begin to reveal the splendor of all the goodness that has been welling up within.
And this more human love (that will fulfill itself, infinitely considerate and gentle, and good and clear in binding and releasing) will resemble that which we are with struggle and endeavor preparing, the love that consists in this, that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other.
Rainer Maria Rilke
Written at the National Shrine and in the Russell Senate Building—Washington, D.C.
When the crying is done, you are left with one thought—that life is unity and  nothing or anyone you encounter along the way can ever be forgotten in the Eternal Memory Bank which records and reanimates every moment of love, of fear, of bravery and loss.
Rather, forgetting is anathema to this way of experiencing life. Though a certain memory may, from time to time, elude the grip of conscious thought, the impression of a thing (or a person) remains, having played an irrevocable part in the shaping of who’ve you become and who you’ll turn into one day.
So live with the confidence of this eternal truth: that nothing is lost, but all is gained—absorbed into the ever-changing mix of facts and thoughts and knowledge and truth which defines your way of seeing and being in this world. For who can argue with a view of life that whispers into your ear: “Child, be at peace—all you have done and all you have seen has made a real difference to someone or something, though you may not see or understand from your place among the heavens”?
Needle in the side
of a half-ripe fruit—
the pain precipitates
in tiny drops
on the forehead
of a martyr for love.
I’m counting the ways
I’m mad for you.
Apples and pears,
peaches and plums—
Midnight-watchers stand their guard
by the hymns
of a tired heart
and a restless soul.
I’m counting the ways
I’m glad for you.
Under the basket,
under the pall—
the stones of sadness
glimmer and glow
(silent and still)
out of the dark.
I’m counting the ways
I’m sad for you.
Herald of suff’ring,
born of the moon—
the news you bring
sickens the sun
and troubles the rain;
the pilgrim’s march
runs on again.
I’m hiding the love
I had for you
all that time ago.
When you want to change your mind about something—whether it’s big or small—first ask yourself how you first came by your thoughts on the matter, then determine what prompted the change.
No need for making a big to-do: just update your understanding as new evidence comes in, and remember to hold your opinions lightly, for they are liable to change again. The important thing is not so much always to be right, as it is to keep a good head on your shoulders and make an honest attempt to find the truth, wherever it may be found.
The truth is what we’re after—not the act or fact of being right. When we understand this, we are free to find our way through life with an open mind and a heart that doesn’t attack those we believe to be in the wrong. And couldn’t we all tip our hats to that?
When the world has grown tired of pushing you around, you find yourself lost in the middle of a cold and crowded place, faced with many paths but uncertain which ones will bring you life, and which will bring you death.
Imagine for a moment that you’ve climbed into bed and spent the night asleep, troubled by dark and wild dreams. When you awake, your heart is rocked by a feeling of restless unease, and your mind shrinks in horror from the visions it contemplated through the night.
We’ve all had experiences like this. But what do they teach us about life? That we can’t trust the surrender of our selves to an uncertain fate, because terrible things might befall us once we let down our guard? That the darkness can’t be touched by a healthy hand without putting fear into the heart?
We’ve learned that unknowable forces operate at night and have the power to disturb us even once we’ve come to our senses and returned to the light.
But we’ve forgotten, meanwhile, the mystery of a life lived in harmony with the Principles of Light. When GOD came into the world, He brought with Him a source of light that was so brilliant that all the darkness was scared away. GOD’s light was the antidote to a crisis of darkness, wherein people could not see their hand from their foot, and succumbed to passions of despair and doubt, because there was no ray of hope to brighten their minds.
When all is said and done, we can remember this simple truth:
The light came and cast out the darkness, and all was made well in the presence of light.
To apply this message to daily life, we might rephrase:
The power of a happy outlook, inspired by the inner light of faith, overcomes even the most insidious fears, taking away their power to haunt and disturb by washing them with the clean, clear light of truth.