Quotes about Reflection

A door opens to me. I go in and am faced with a hundred closed doors.

Just as words lose their power when they are not born out of silence, so openness loses its meaning when there is no ability to be closed.

The great movement of the spiritual life is from a deaf, nonhearing life to a life of listening.

Loneliness is painful; Solitude is peaceful. Loneliness makes us cling to others in desperation; solitude allows us to respect others in their uniqueness and create community...

We often say, "I am not very happy. I am not content with the way my life is going. I am not really joyful or peaceful. But I don't know how things can be different, and I guess I have to be realistic and accept my life as it is." It is this mood of resignation that prevents us from actively naming our reality, articulating our experience, and moving more deeply into the life of the Spirit.

I have found over and over again how hard it is to be truly faithful to Jesus when I am alone.

The measure of your solitude is the measure of your capacity for communion.

If I were to ask about my seven months at the Abbey, Did it work, did I solve my problems? the simple answer would be, It did not work, it did not solve my problems. And I know that a year, two years, or even a lifetime as a Trappist monk would not have worked either. Because a monastery is not built to solve problems but to praise the Lord in the midst of them.

Still, as long as you keep pointing to the specifics, you will miss the full meaning of your pain. You will deceive yourself into believing that if the people, circumstances, and events had been different, your pain would not exist.

When we are alone with God, the Spirit prays in us. The challenge is to develop a simple discipline or spiritual practice to embrace some empty time and empty space every day.

I have always been complaining that my work was constantly interrupted; then I realized that the interruptions were my work.

In the face of the oppressed I recognize my own face, and in the hands of the oppressor I recognize my own hands. Their flesh is my flesh, their blood is my blood, their pain is my pain, their smile is my smile.