Towards the Silent Heart

kitchen table philosophy


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Enchanting Moments Alone

Kitchen Table Philosopher Joseph Raffa contemplates the still moments that arise to embrace the heart when we seek out quiet times in nature.

Where the surging water ripples and flows

Over the scattered mass of boulders

Spread across the earth

In jumbled disarray

 

Here, far away from the grasping hands

Of a time ridden civilisation,

Sheltered by a surround of tree-covered hills

The placid beat of a loving nature

Softly swirls over the landscape.

 

Soft winds warmed by the sun

Drift in and out of shadowy cover

Caressing gently into movement

Massed branches of green coloured leaves.

 

‘Tis enchantment indeed how the sound of the wind

Blends in with bird calls

And with the incessant chirps

Of a busy insect chorus.

 

Perfume, set adrift by love

Flows from brightly coloured flowers.

A heady, sweet scented aroma

An irresistible lure

Inviting fertilisation.

 

The delightful sounds of water in a hurry

Bubbling, swirling, gurgling

Its watery way

Over, around and between

Trees and upthrust boulders.

 

Where the dampness

Spreads its moistured carpet,

There, the mosses thrive and grow

Softly yielding beneath the naked feet.

 

To sit on a boulder and listen

To the play

Of nature’s musical instruments

Is sheer delight.

 

 

Memories of crowded cities fade

The discordant sounds of production machines

Do not intrude

And the competitive world

Of striving humans

Is temporarily forgotten.

 

The spirit of a loving nature

Advances slowly, into the heart,

Bypassing the mind

And its urgent need to reason.

 

The vista of growing plants,

The surround of unspoilt nature

Stirs a latent sensitivity, deep within.

Silenced by the wonder

The mind is deeply stilled.

 

And out of the heart

A great love comes a-creeping

Caressing, soothing, all embracing

 

The sights and sounds of nature

Vanish mysteriously

Into the depths of love

For a fleeting, delicate moment

Of sheer enchantment.

 

Joseph’s collected spiritual writing is now available in a series of books from Amazon.com and other online retailers.

You might like to try Beside Still Waters. This beautiful collection of essays touches on the universal search for meaning and inspires readers to reach out for the still waters of the spirit.

The human heart longs for peace and harmony. It seeks a restful haven from the relentless busyness of everyday life, drawing us to spend tranquil moments in natural surrounds that offer a brief respite from the hustle and bustle. There is a state of inner stillness, when the endless chatter of the mind has ceased, that a deeper understanding arises. These are the ‘still waters’ that bring new life to mankind, that lay claim to the heart and redirect the mind. These are the waters of peace, love and true togetherness that lift us up to divine heights of being and living.

 


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An Easter interlude

 

by Joseph Raffa

Image: Gerd Altman, Pixabay

Good Friday – the day the body of Christ was crucified. Little did the perpetrators know what they were setting in motion.  They believed they were protecting their positions of

power and authority.  Were they not the religious trustees of the day – the guardians of religious traditions?

And wasn’t all this threatened by this Galilean, this supposed performer of miracles, this healer of the sick?  Why, it was even said that he raised a man from the dead, brought him back to life

before his grieving family and friends.

My, how silly can you be.  It’s just not possible.  The dead are dead.  Or they were in those days without the techniques of modern medicine.  Now-a-days, with injections of drugs, heart

massage, artificial resuscitation and maybe even an electrical charge, it sometimes happens that the seemingly dead are brought

back to life.

Still, in those days it was some feat.  So the Galilean became quite a centre of interest wherever he walked, talked and performed his miracles.

What a nuisance he became to the religious authorities of the day.  Not intentionally of course.  He just went about doing his Father’s business, (as he so simply put it) dispensing love and

truth regardless of the consequences.

Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so bad if he didn’t mention in an offhand way that he and the Father were one.  In the eyes of the guardians of the day, this was blasphemy of the highest order.

So, off with his head or, as was the delightful custom in this particular place and time – off to the cross with him.  But wait – a whipping first, just to add injury to insult – mock the man

and what he represented, then leave him there, high in the air, exposed to the elements till nature took its course.

The trouble was, after it was all over, he stubbornly refused to stay dead.  No – he had to compound the situation by coming back to life, (just as he had forecast, mind you).  And everything

about the man, his life, his words, his actions, the miracles, the crucifixion, refused to die away too.

In fact, what the priests tried to destroy took on a new lease of life, spread from that centre of a beginning, to travel around the world.  Much like a tiny seed grows into a mighty Oak tree.

Which just goes to show that Divine love and truth are irrepressible elements in human nature and in the universe – that they will persist as long as the universe and life persists.

And even beyond that for they have their source in that which is imperishable, in that which is sacred and unprofaned.

Christ came from that source, was one with it as indeed all things and all life are one with it.  All he did was speak the truth and for that he was crucified, by the blind, the arrogant

and the ignorant.

But the spark that took off then is with us still.  It burns like a flame in the hearts of those who travel inwards, who rediscover the Cosmic Christ within.

That’s what it was all about – to bring mankind together with truth, love and the Universal Nature.  So the cross, instead of signifying the end became a guiding beacon, a signpost for

mankind to rediscover itself, to disentangle itself from its home in time and find its true home in that strange nature beyond

space and time.

From Beyond the Cross, The Christ Collection by Joseph Raffa

Available in various links from

books2read.com/u/3yZA8p