Archive of monthly reminders for the Last Sunday Day of Chosen Silence

APRIL 24, 2012

Dear friends,

Peri and I greet you in anticipation of this coming Sunday, as the pulse of stillness comes into focus. There are many new women in this web of friends, having recently come through the Coming Into Your Own programs in various parts of the world.  Welcome.  As changes roll through our lives, this personal anchor in a slowed down pace, and relaxation of outer activity, is a simple remembrance of where we come from.

We have been sending out these notes for a couple years now towards the end of each month, including some kind of inspiration which recalls this quiet home in ourselves.  Some women commit to a full day of silence on the last Sunday of the month, others designate a short period of time to meditation, others just read these persistent notes and pause in the moment to feel themselves.  It doesn’t matter how we choose to settle in ourselves.  What matters is who we are behind the roles and stories of our lives.

I will attach the invitation to join in this connection, internally and with one another across the time zones.   Also, we are including a recent article from the New York Times which speaks to a growing consciousness which cherishes this kind of retreat from the fray of life.  It is called the Joy of Quiet.

[http://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/01/opinion/sunday/the-joy-of-quiet.html?_r=2&pagewanted=all]

With love,

Barbara and Peri

March 25, 2012

Greetings to our virtual circle of women around the world who appreciate a centering point in stillness. It is good to be aware of one another this Sunday, as we pause in silence. We recently had a weekend gathering in the UK with Coming Into Your Own faculty from Europe, Asia and the United States.  Sophy Pern shared this video, on the theme of silence and aloneness, following our time together.  Peri and I thought you might all enjoy it, too.  Thanks Sophy.

I am currently in Turkey, having just completed a CIYO II gathering that was fabulous…at once filled with stillness, music, the wisdom of nature, and raucous laughter in the Turkish bath (hammam) where we rubbed and pummeled one another on the warm marble slabs, then poured great silver bowls of warm water over ourselves.

There are two upcoming courses in the United States, both in April (New Hampshire then Ojai, California), and one in the Netherlands in May. (See listings at http://www.ciyowomensretreat.com/events.html) Each has a couple of places still open for a few lucky women.

We will meet you in the chambers of the heart this Sunday.

With Love from Peri and me…..

Barbara

At the CIYO retreat recently we talked about what practices sustained us as faculty, and a number of us mentioned silence, walks, and time to be alone. This video is a nice reminder of the importance of time alone, and an introduction to it for the extroverts among us who struggle!!  Sophy

KarmaTube: How To Be Alone

This charming video pays tribute to the happy wholesomeness of being alone. Tanya Davis recites her poem about the ways of solitude, gently cataloging all the places where aloneness can bring freedom and healing. Whether at a lunch counter, park bench, mountain trail, or on the edge of a dance floor – all you have to do is love yourself enough, to love being alone.     http://www.karmatube.org/videos.php?id=2086

February 26,2012

Love ~ it is what lives in the space of Silence ~

I have been thinking a lot about Love lately.  One of my new practices, that I decided to do for the year of 2012, is something called “self-attunement” for 15 minutes each day.   In simple terms what this means is sitting quietly, as if I were going to meditate, except instead of focusing on my breathing or a chant or emptying my mind, I bring “myself” into my open hands on my lap…and for the next 15 minutes, I just “be with me”…as in simply let Love flow to myself.I have no other agenda, I am not trying to Love anything in particular about myself, I am simply giving my undivided attention to “me” with no conditions or expectations.

The reason I thought to share this as we come to our February day of Silence this next Sunday is because the experience has surprised me…and although it is different each day, one thing I frequently find happening during these 15 minute sessions is that I lose total track of “who is doing what to whom”…all I know is Love is flowing in all directions and that there is really no “out there” and “in here”.

With warmest affection,

Peri (& Barbara)

If you or any friends are interested in an upcoming Coming Into Your Own program, please visit our website and see the 2012 options: from Turkey to the Netherlands, from California to Hong Kong, from New Hampshire to Nova Scotia or France or Germany or British Columbia. How about Morocco? Welcome. www.CIYOwomensretreat.com

January 26, 2012

Ahhhh, January 2012, Sunday 29th, and women round the world finding space to breathe together in silence, knowing the value of this common home. Here are some simple words, the first sent by a colleague who works with Peri in the US Forest Service. And the second is a poem by Naomi Shihab Nye, who always finds words for the significance of subtle gesture in a still world.

Fresh

---

With love,

Peri and Barbara, as part of the web of women who cherish chosen silence

Upcoming CIYO's are listed here. Know any women friends, colleagues or family who are in transition in their lives, and would like a place to re-center? For details, visit our web site at: www.CIYOwomensretreat.com, and click on events for the calendar. You may respond to this note by hitting reply.

CIYO France Feb. 22-25

CIYO II for alumnae, Turkey Mar. 15-18

CIYO Istanbul, Turkey Mar. 22-25

CIYO Hancock, New Hampshire April 11-14

CIYO Ojai, California April 29-May 2

CIYO Werkhoven, Netherlands May 15-18

December 17, 2011

How wonderful that the last Sunday of December falls on the 25th. We wish you a most wonderful transition into the New Year through whatever spiritual or cultural context you celebrate. We are aware of our Turkish friends who honor the coming year on December 31st, when Noel Baba often shows up with surprises that herald a promising new year.  Chanukah is the 20th to 28th this year, a blessed and welcome celebration of light. And for those who find meaning in the essences of Christmas, may you honor the spirit of Jesus in your living.  Certainly this Being was a vigorous and fearless man who woke up to his innate freedom to live on a new basis—through all the challenges and joys he faced. May we all do this in our own ways.

At the base of all our traditions is a taproot into the universal well of stillness.  We will meet you here for some moments on the 25th, and in the weeks ahead, however you choose to drink of this water and offer it to a thirsty world.

In loving connection,

Peri and Barbara

November 27, 2011

Dear Friends,

Peri and I welcome you into some experience of inner quiet this Sunday, connecting our global network of women in  peace of heart.

October 30, 2011

Dear friends,

When perusing facebook recently, which I don't do very often, I found this wonderful quote from the Dali Lama on Tamryn Bekker's sight ~ thought it was a good one to send along to our 'silence circle' ~ enjoy your day ~ Peri

September 24, 2011

August 26, 2011

Greetings to you all ~ as Barbara Cecil & I were talking together about themes for this upcoming day of silence, we both realized that the main theme that was present for both of us was that of a "blank page"...for me the main reason for this is that I have been on "holiday" for the last two weeks.  On holiday for me is simply my "brain turned off as well as my computer" and waking up each day here in my home with no agenda ~

July 25, 2011

To the precious web of women who aspire to live from the inside out,

This coming Sunday is the last Sunday of the month, so many of us will
take time out from business as usual to tune to the sounds, and sights
and feelings which are run over at the world's pace. I found this
recording to be a welcome reminder of all that lives in the space
between, when we slow to the frequency of the heart. For me the
written words on the video are just OK, but the sound track is
exquisite. Imagine, cricket beings singing praise!

Warmest regards near and far,

Barbara (and Peri)

www.CIYOwomensretreat.com

June 23, 2011

Dear Friends,

I can hardly believe it was only a month ago that we paused on the last Sunday of May. The women at the CIYO in Istanbul were very, very touched to walk in silence with you for ten minutes. Thank you deeply.

I thought how easy it was to do ten minutes. What if ten minutes were as profound as a whole day, in their own way? What if the rhythm of these monthly days, the intention, and the connection were the most important things? I think this is a great option worth trying on for those who find a full day not quite the thing.

In the beginning of this shared practice our letter of invitation offered the gift of Anne LeClaire’s book Listening Beneath the Noise, from Peri. In less than two years Peri has gifted over 400 copies. And the offer continues as part of her steady dedication to the practice of chosen silence on a regular basis. In case you run across new or old friends who might welcome this community practice, we will attach the invitation at the bottom for you to send along.

With you all,
Barbara and Peri

Anne LeClaire wrote a few paragraphs for you this month and we include them here:

When I started writing LISTENING BELOW THE NOISE, I used another working title for the manuscript. Twenty years ago, when I began my silent Mondays, it became clear early on that the effects of stepping back from my noisy world were more profound than I had expected. The changes silence birthed went deep and then spread out into my immediate world much like the way a stone sinks to the bed of a pond or ocean while simultaneously sending out ripples that widen and widen across the water. So while working on the memoir, STONE FALLING THROUGH WATER seemed like an obvious choice for the title.

Ultimately I changed that, but the understanding of the ways in which a practice of silence alters one’s world continued. The longer I kept silent Mondays, the more I was changed in fundamental ways and the stronger I became. Even so, I was unprepared for the way the message of the book resonated in larger world beyond my friends and family. E-mails and letters arrived weekly from Europe, Africa, South America, and Asia as readers like you shared their own experiences of stillness and the ways in which it changed their lives.

In April, I was interviewed on a radio program in Bahrain. The program got underway and I couldn’t help but think of the listeners there and wondered if, on a day of great upheaval in their country as the riots began, they would be interested in or find relevance in a conversation about silence. Then I recalled the difficult times in my own life over the past two decades and remembered how silence has always called me home and calmed me. On these Mondays, again and again, it has showed me that what is most needed when we are in the midst of a crisis - whether it be physical, political, emotional, financial or spiritual - is to slow down and become quiet, to allow the space silence affords to expand and the wisdom held there to rise.

Now, each last Sunday of the month, I picture the din of human commerce and conflict momentarily stilled as the silence you all are keeping creates a place of rest and reflection and casts light in each dark hour and every troubled heart. I think of each of you, tossing your own stones out into water, ripples expanding, overlapping, changing the world in ways both fleeting and profound, and connecting us.

Sister friends around the world, I wish you all continued peace, joy and discovery beneath the noise.
Anne

The next open enrollment Coming Into Your Own Program is in Ojai, California September 11-14. Find out more at www.CIYOwomensretreat.com

For those who have graduated from the CIYO Program, we are offering CIYO II, as time to nourish and renew at a deeper level. (September 16-20 in New Mexico) Write to Barbara for more information, bcecil@mind.net.

May 24, 2011

Dear friends,

April 21, 2011

As I dig my hands into the cool, beds of my garden here in New Hampshire, the sap is surging back up the trees and life is popping up all around me.  Having just spent last week in Washington, DC where the current tensions are running high, I find great peace in the simple tasks of caring for my home.

This Sunday is a day when many seek a place of peace inside themselves as part of their practice of honoring Easter.  We are also in the season of passover, which has its own traditions of deepening one's connection with an internal place of wisdom and understanding.  I am reminded of the last poem in a book that my mother just produced at the age of 82 called "Saying Yes to Life":

Inevitable

Winter's last blasts
drown the sound
of northward honking geese.
I dawdle over poetry,
no longer wishing

to rush through life.
I savor maple syrup on
my oatmeal, sip cocoa
watch hooded mergansers dive
in the pond quacking

mallards, competing with
incessant sounds of peepers
shouting Liar, Liar, Liar.
Black flies pollinate blueberries
and are food for swallows.

I too join the cycle,
exist on air, move to an
unknown chapter, slide down
and up double rainbows,
circle freely in the sky.

It seems to me that there is such wisdom in mothers, and in the Mother earth herself ~ a quality of knowing that there are cycles and seasons, and in the midst of it all we each are somehow held as our lives make their way.

I am glad to honor wisdom in all its myriad forms as we move towards this Sunday of Silence together.  At the end of this note I have attached a longer "blad" on my Mom's new book for any to peruse that would enjoy it attached to this message and send my blessing to you all.

Love,

Peri

P.S. And a bonus from Barbara passed this way from Dorian.  Here is another virtual expression of connectedness for your pleasure:

http://blog.ted.com/2011/04/01/a-virtual-choir-2000-voices-strong-eric-whitacre-on-ted-com/
P.P.S. and one of our number sent a self portrait that seemed worth passing along

March 22, 2011

Dear friends,

I am very happy to connect this month in the quiet chambers of the heart. I find myself most grateful for this web of women as the layers of disturbance and pain in the world intensify. Close to home, there are fissures, and quakes too. I am aware of steady pressure behind structures, internal and globally, that constrict life’s flow. Future plans and relationships that seemed solid are in liquid states of change.  I feel the global shifts in my body, and am often unsure if my feelings are personal or part of a bigger pattern, or both. I am sure, though, that our own practices of stillness are deeply reassuring, as we find the ground from which good decisions, wise action and meaningful attention flow. And our awareness of one another is a blessed container for all that is afoot.

This version of the monthly letter is dedicated to personal inquiry about how to hold the deep movement occurring in our personal and collective lives, and in the earth herself. Each one naturally finds her stance in a different way. I am deliberately balancing a mix of care for my body, mindful walking on this blessed earth, artwork and quietude...creating space in me where great flows of feeling, new possibilities, personal challenges, friends, health factors, images, and stories from around the world can rest.

I am including communication from different women who are working to find their own reference point in the midst. Perhaps reading/seeing a spread of responses to the challenges and opportunities might be supportive in some way, as each one of us finds our footing in the quickening on so many fronts. They are in the attachment.

Peri and I are thinking of you this coming Sunday with gratitude for a shared wrap of care for our earth and for the many people who are in such distress at this time. On the other side of the coin we witnessed a great leap of creativity and strength in the women we met in Turkey, who showed up so courageously in the Coming Into Your Own program this month.

With love,

Barbara

From Colorado:

The mudra for trust: Mudras are hand positions that are an ancient yogic art and science.   By placing your hands and fingers into a certain position, and holding them here for 15 minutes as you meditate,  a particular circuit of energy within your body will open to profound trust.

From a friend in South Africa:

With the earthquake and tsunami in Japan, the explosion at the nuclear plant there, and the larger effect on the world of these events (not just the effect on the people of Japan, but, for example, the fact that Japan has apparently shifted 8 feet from its prior position, the unavoidable likelihood that there will be increased radiation fallout, and the news that the earth's axis has shifted as a result of the quake), I have personally been really shaken.  I am doing what is mine to do relative to being centered while still letting myself feel the effect of what is happening, and I would also request that we together consciously hold a space of quiet and stillness.  Now, and in the days ahead, the world will need this.

Here are words from 2 women in Japan, working to find their own positioning:

Below are two passages that came through the web:

This is from a western woman living in Japan, last week…

As I write this, I am in Tokyo.  It’s been 48 hours since the biggest earthquake that's ever been recorded in Japan.  Ever since the sheer terror of those five minutes in which our building shook and swayed and groaned, and I didn’t know if my daughter and I would make it out alive, I have been glued to the public lens—tv, facebook, text messages, photos—with a surreal combination of horror and paralysis.  The devastation north of us is shocking.  The normalcy of Tokyo is shocking, too, except that water, rice, and batteries are disappearing from the supermarkets.  And looming over everything is the very real chance that a nuclear reactor will melt down and release unfathomably toxic substances into the air, water, and land.

I have been afraid—terrified, really—for 48 hours.

People, I am here to say, that is long enough.

Here is where my fear got me: my head aches.  My shoulders ache.  My jaw aches, from clenching it.  My breath is short and shallow.  My heart aches at every sad photograph, and my nervous system is at the mercy of every authoritarian voice broadcasting worry.

In that condition, I am no more useful to the world, my family, or myself than a very anxious marmoset.

So here is how I am changing my frequency.  If this stuff is working for me today, it will work for you too—whether you are afraid about your finances, your future, your failing left tail light, or your embarrassing flail in yesterday’s meeting.

1.    I turned off the news.  I can receive up-to-the-minute information via text, and my heart is already with those who are suffering.  When I read information, it goes to my brain and not straight to my primal fight-or-flight response.  The music and images of TV news are geared to trigger panic and an empathic flood; I’ve decided not to let myself get triggered

2.    I cleaned my house.  This grounded me, calmed me, and got me back into my body, which is a much more reliable navigation system than my shrieking reptile survival brain, what Martha Beck calls my ‘lizard.’  My lizard tells me that we are DOOOOMED.  My body tells me that we need to stretch, to sing, to self-soothe with quiet rhythms.  (Folding laundry works nicely.)

3.    I faced the worst-case scenario.  My partner and I came up with a plan for what we would do if the reactor begins to spew, or if there is a serious food crisis in Tokyo, or any of the other frightening scenarios that have been haunting me.  Now that I know what I will actually do if any of those events come to pass, I can dismiss them when they clamor for my attention.  And the last line of every plan is: “And if none of that works, we wing it as well as we can.”  This is actually a pretty good plan.

4.    I questioned my scary thoughts.  My underlying thought, the one that was making my heart palpitate and my fists clench, was: “We are in danger right this very second!”  I asked, “Is this true?”  And the answer is, Who the heck knows?  We could be, for sure.  But then any of us could be in danger at any minute of any day.  But what I know right now is that I am sitting in my apartment with running water, electricity, heat, and very fast internet.  My loved ones are safe.  We are getting the best information we know how to get.  So I choose to live in the blissful sense of safety that most of us inhabit when we’re not acutely aware that the sky could fall at any moment.  Believing that I am safe is no more arbitrary, at this particular moment in time, than believing that I am in danger, but it feels a lot better and it makes me more insightful, more courageous, and more wise.  It lets me think more creatively and compassionately.  And all those things, paradoxically, will work to keep me and the ones I love safe.  If I am in real physical danger, my system will flood with adrenaline and I will be able to act on the terror I’ve been feeling and suppressing these last two days.  I will run, or fight, or negotiate, or do whatever I need to do.  Until then, I choose to keep breathing deep, calming breaths (Thanks, Terry DeMeo) and asking myself, “Is that scary thought even true?”

5.    I took constructive action.  I made up a backpack full of emergency items and our important paperwork.  Maybe your constructive action is making a phone call or getting something checked out.  Maybe it’s opening the scary envelope or looking at your online balance.  You’ll feel better if you just do it, I promise.

6.    I let my body release.  Because I was with my daughter during the most frightening part of the quake (lying on the floor of our 16th-floor apartment as it pitched and creaked like a ship in a storm), I spent significant energy holding it together for her.  We talked a bit about how scared we both were, and she seemed okay, but later she had a major sobbing meltdown about something inconsequential.  Then she was perky again.  Little kids are very wise that way.  I waited until I was alone in bed that night to sob and shudder.  With each heave of my shoulders and shuddering quaking tremble, I let some of my fear and tension release.  Animals tremble and shudder to shake off trauma; we need to do it too, even when the trauma is only visible to us.

7.    I consciously flooded myself with beauty.  I listened to music that makes me want to move my body and heal the world.  For me this means Christine Kane, The Dixie Chicks, and other things too embarrassing to write here.  I also bought flowers today, a big gorgeous bouquet of them, in a flagrant act of flipping the bird at fate.  I am buoyed and nourished by their blooming faces as I make my way through my home.

8.  I grounded back into my purpose.  I had a brief panic about a class I’m teaching in a few weeks, The Queen Sweep.  http://www.annakunnecke.com/the-queen-sweep.html I wondered if clearing clutter would seem frivolous in light of global tragedy.  I questioned its ultimate value in the world and the worth of the work I do.  In other words, I freaked out.  Many people are layering their immediate fear with scary thoughts like this about their future worth and their careers.  Screw that.  In a crisis like this, I’m more glad than ever that I know exactly where to find my passport; that my papers are in order and I’ve declared a guardian for my daughter; that we all have clean underwear and clean sheets to sleep on; and that my home is an oasis of calm and beauty.   Whatever the crisis, the world needs people who are sharp, who know their stuff, and know what they can contribute.  Be ready to bring what you can  to the table.

9.    I gazed at my daughter.  She is so beautiful.  She is so alive through her fear, her joy, her rage, her desire—she doesn’t shut any of it down.  It’s all right there, messy and inconvenient at times, but gloriously awake.

10.  Most importantly, I remembered that I am the boss of my own energy.  I kept waiting for someone to make me feel better, to reassure me, to tell me what to do.  Guess what?  No one can declare dominion over my life besides me.  I have to be the leader that I was waiting for.  Chin up, deep breath, flowers on table.  Here we go.

Anna Kunnecke

And an update from her March 15:

This morning I got very quiet.
I lined everything up until I was
still like a pool of water.
I held my daughter in my mind, and my maternal lion roared.
Not of danger,
or a warning,
but simply
the clear knowledge of
what I need to do to be at peace.
So I am getting on a plane in a few hours
with my girl.

And from a Japanese women, near Sendai, apparently written a few days ago…

…before the weather turned cold and snowy…

From my cousin in Sendai, Japan where she has lived for the past decade teaching English. Very moving!!

Hello My Lovely Family and Friends,

First I want to thank you so very much for your concern for me. I am very touched. I also wish to apologize for a generic message to you all. But it seems the best way at the moment to get my message to you.

Things here in Sendai have been rather surreal. But I am very blessed to have wonderful friends who are helping me a lot. Since my shack is even more worthy of that name, I am now staying at a friend's home. We share supplies like water, food and a kerosene heater. We sleep lined up in one room, eat by candlelight, share stories. It is warm, friendly, and beautiful.

During the day we help each other clean up the mess in our homes. People sit in their cars, looking at news on their navigation screens, or line up to get drinking water when a source is open. If someone has water running in their home, they put out sign so people can come to fill up their jugs and buckets.

Utterly amazingly where I am there has been no looting, no pushing in lines. People leave their front door open, as it is safer when an earthquake strikes. People keep saying, "Oh, this is how it used to be in the old days when everyone helped one another."

Quakes keep coming. Last night they struck about every 15 minutes. Sirens are constant and helicopters pass overhead often.

We got water for a few hours in our homes last night, and now it is for half a day. Electricity came on this afternoon. Gas has not yet come on. But all of this is by area. Some people have these things, others do not.

No one has washed for several days. We feel grubby, but there are so much more important concerns than that for us now. I love this peeling away of non-essentials. Living fully on the level of instinct, of intuition, of caring, of what is needed for survival, not just of me, but of the entire group.

There are strange parallel universes happening. Houses a mess in some places, yet then a house with futons or laundry out drying in the sun. People lining up for water and food, and yet a few people out walking their dogs. All happening at the same time.

Other unexpected touches of beauty are first, the silence at night. No cars. No one out on the streets. And the heavens at night are scattered with stars. I usually can see about two, but now the whole sky is filled. The mountains are Sendai are solid and with the crisp air we can see them silhouetted against the sky magnificently.

And the Japanese themselves are so wonderful. I come back to my shack to check on it each day, now to send this e-mail since the electricity is on, and I find food and water left in my entranceway. I have no idea from whom, but it is there. Old men in green hats go from door to door checking to see if everyone is OK. People talk to complete strangers asking if they need help. I see no signs of fear. Resignation, yes, but fear or panic, no.

They tell us we can expect aftershocks, and even other major quakes, for another month or more. And we are getting constant tremors, rolls, shaking, rumbling. I am blessed in that I live in a part of Sendai that is a bit elevated, a bit more solid than other parts. So, so far this area is better off than others. Last night my friend's husband came in from the country, bringing food and water. Blessed again.

Somehow at this time I realize from direct experience that there is indeed an enormous Cosmic evolutionary step that is occurring all over the world right at this moment. And somehow as I experience the events happening now in Japan, I can feel my heart opening very wide. My brother asked me if I felt so small because of all that is happening. I don't. Rather, I feel as part of something happening that much larger than myself. This wave of birthing (worldwide) is hard, and yet magnificent.

Thank you again for your care and Love of me,

With Love in return, to you all,

Anne

And from another friend in California:

I am following with concern and with care in my heart what is happening in Japan for those affected and in the Middle East as well, but I also do not, at my very core, feel that the survival of the human race is l mandatory and therefore not ours to  really 'hold' (although I do wish at times that I could believe in that being important, so as not be such a 'freak').

So a part of me feels that the most we can really do  (other than helping in any direct and indirect ways via aid and policy influence) is live our own precious experiments of evolutionary lives as well as we possibly can (whatever that means for each of us) - and for me, more and more it is simply about finding those places where I can be expressing my Self with love and fullest integrity in all of my direct interconnections. Easy to say, harder to live out, for me.

February 27, 2011

Dear Friends,

With love,
Barbara

Maya Angelou: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JqOqo50LSZ0

Asmaa Mafouz:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SgjIgMdsEuk

---

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

~ Rumi ~

January 29, 2011

Dear Friends,

Fewer words this month.  We'll join you in the womb of rest and quiet this Sunday, or whenever you choose to turn your attention away from the clamor of the world.  Here's Peri on her front porch welcoming you with tea in hand.

Peri and I are facilitating the May CIYO program in Maine, the program description is attached.  We invite you to check out our new website (on its way to greatness), listing our Coming Into Your Own offerings to women this year www.ciyowomensretreat.com. There is no doubt that the rhythm of these precious days of quiet undergirds these programs, and all that each of you gives day to day in your life.

Blessings and Love,

Barbara

December 20, 2010

I greet you, dearest ones, heading into the solstice time on the earth.  Peri and I were speaking a couple days ago about the wonder of earth’s balance, as you in the southern hemisphere stretch open in the light, and we here rest in the darkness.  We are so thankful for the well of silence that holds the challenges of change permeating our lives and enveloping our shared home. Surely 2011 will be the dance of surprising new creation and ceremonies of loss.

Earlier this year the Ashland Institute hosted a “concert” in which Maryliz Smith wove poetry and music. Recently she joined us in a Coming Into Your Own program, where we were carried on the gentleness of sound through the cycles of dissolution and transformation.  I want to give you this season the gift of her touch.

This is one of the pieces from her concert. Maryliz’s primary instrument is the organ, but for this piece she moves to the piano, to accompany the cello. I understand what happened here between her and Ari Barnes as the subtle translation of the sounds of silence into delicate first form.  When we took this piece off of her DVD of the whole concert we lost some volume and clarity, but it works.   This piece will find its way into your heart as you find a quiet place to listen, and nestle into your own stillness, to meet it.  It is 9 minutes long.

Blessings and love to you, and we will meet you in your chosen hours of silence,
Barbara

Maryliz wanted to speak to you, too.  So from her…

Spiegel im Spiegel or Mirrors within Mirrors was written by Estonian born composer, Arvo Part. He wrote this piece just prior to his departure from his homeland in 1978. Metaphorically, the infinite number of ways to mirror the same theme serves as a reminder of the infinite possibilities of creation teeming forth from an active silence. The experience is like being in a musical prism.  Arvo Part is quoted as saying “I could compare my music to white light which contains all colors. Only a prism can divide the colors and make them appear; this prism could be the spirit of the listener.”

Playing with Ari Barnes is like being in this “zone” of white light. As the music slowly unfolds, the exquisite nature of being in the motion of its unfoldment is like grace showering us with serenity and beauty--all originating and being sculpted through the enveloping presence of silence.

May we bless this year for all we have learned,
For all we have loved and lost
And for the quiet way it has brought us
Nearer to our internal home.

The link is: www.gallery.me.com/marylizsmith1

A preview of next year’s CIYO’s:
CIYO (Coming Into Your Own) - a personal leadership program for women
- March 3-6, 2011 – Istanbul Turkey – enrollment details coming soon
- March 8-12, 2011 – Utrecht, Netherlands  - offered as 'Women and Leadership: Lifecycles,Power and Work' as part of  ALIA Conference Europe,  to register: http://www.aliainstitute.org/europe2011/
- May 4-7, 2011 – York Harbor, Maine – http://www.dialogos.com/programs/ciyo.html
- June 24-July 1,2011 – Columbus, Ohio - offered as 'Women and Leadership: Lifecycles, Power and Work' as part of ALIA Conference US, to register: http://www.aliainstitute.org/summer-institute-2011/

And watch for more information coming soon on:
- October 2011 – West Coast of US CIYO
- November 2011 – Shanghai, China CIYO
- December 2011 - Miraval Spa, Arizona – would you be interested in treating yourself to a spa break that includes a CIYO experience?

Inquiries can be sent to Dorian. Baroni@gmail.com

And Maryliz’s web home is: http://www.marylizsmith.com/about.html

November 25, 2010

Dear friends,

Peri and I greet you as we come into November's day of chosen silence.  I am including some paragraphs I wrote recently in an evolving article about "the space-between". I am pointing to a context for the silence practice that has meaning for me.

"I saw a NASA video recently taken by the Hubble telescope peering into the dark space between visible heavenly bodies.  Apparently the footage took over ten years to record. It took a major effort to convince the lead scientists in charge of the telescope’s use to spend valuable recording aimed at the black void.  The result can be seen here: http://www.flixxy.com/hubble-ultra-deep-field-3d.htm.  Billions of stars and galactic centers emerged out of the dark void. This short video gives us a view of our celestial home that changes our sense of self and placement in the great matrix of life.  The “something” discovered in the “nothing” changes everything.

Perhaps we can turn the telescope of our own attention in to the space-between in our own lives, also not a very popular, or at least familiar, pastime. Deep in our cultural psyche, at least here in the west, is the conviction that meaning is in the visible things we do.  We are paid for what we accomplish, and sought after for the results we produce in the world.    If we are between jobs, we are doing our level best to get to the next engagement as fast as possible.  If we are between relationships, we are strategizing to create the next intimate connection. We track the economy and demand that our the leaders get us back on track, as we busily position ourselves for the next spike in the stock market.  What if, though, the breakdown of business, as usual, is a gift of the universe, guiding our attention into the space-between these concrete markers of fulfillment?

I am endeavoring to describe nothing less than a figure ground reversal where the real meaning, and deepest generativity, is in the awkward and painful spaces between jobs when our identity as we have known it falters, between relationships when we are alone, in the blessed insecurity of financial crisis.  Could it be that in the rush for comfort and familiar ground, that we miss the elegant alternatives to business-as-usual that is fast becoming a myth? And that the deep inspiration and creativity needed to address the challenges of our time is waiting for us, if we can turn our attention in new directions? Artists call this space between form “negative space”."

Could this relate to our practice of silence?

And now, for the sheer joy of it, I am attaching two videos.  Surely music springs from the wellspring of life found in our common depths.

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A Three year old, conducting Beethoven:  http://wimp.com/childbeethoven/

Awesome! Pop-Up Hallelujah Chorus at Macy's:  http://www.creativeminorityreport.com/2010/11/awesome-pop-up-hallelujah-chorus-at.html
A couple of weekends ago (Nov 4, 2010), shoppers at the the Macy's in Philadelphia (the old Wanamaker building) were surprised when over 600 choristers who were there mingling with regular shoppers suddenly burst into Handel's Hallelujah Chorus. It's pretty awesome.

The Opera Company of Philadelphia was instrumental in bringing it together to perform one of the Knight Foundation's "1000 Random Acts of Culture" which they'll be doing over the next three years across the country. Accompanied by the Wanamaker Organ - the world's largest pipe organ - the singers burst into song at exactly noon.  Turn up the volume (be carefull if you are in the office!)

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Finally, I invite you to see Elsie's thoughtful comments on the blog (Elsie from New York/Santa Fe).  I have noted that she and others are having challenges getting contributions onto the blog. Feel free to write back to me and Jennifer with any thoughts you have, and we will post them.

I am so happy to greet you all this week, and give thanks for each precious one of the 150 plus women receiving this note.

With Love,

Barbara

October 24, 2010

A story to ponder during the coming day of chosen silence, October 31.

What follows is a story, adapted from a book called A Voice in the Wind by David LaChapelle.  It is the tale of a young man, Aaron, who is on a journey to manhood, and the various experiences he has in this rite of passage.  The story is situated on the Alaska coastline.  Raven and Fog Woman come from the mythology of the Native Peoples of Turtle Island.

The story can be taken literally as an archetypal conversation between a young man and an older woman.  I also hear it as a description of the universal process of creation in this world, describing the relationship between the spirit of Raven and Fog Woman that live in us all. Perhaps these Sundays, or whatever day and time you choose, are an embodiment of our home in the baskets with the beaded rim and the colorful ribbons dangling from its edge.

I greet you warmly on this October day,

Barbara Cecil

Fog Woman’s Baskets

There is a myth born of the Native Peoples of Turtle Island.  It is the story of Aaron, a young man, on a journey to claim his manhood, who encounters Fog Woman.  Early one morning Aaron was stepping from rock to rock along the coastal headlands, through a dense fog that had settled over the water. In the distance he saw a figure, obscured by the fog, kneeling by some large objects.  “Good morning,” he called.  The figure turned at the sound of his voice.  Aaron realized that it was a woman with long black hair that seemed to float out into the mist itself.  As she turned her head, her hair stirred the fog and sent eddies of mist spinning from its tips.  As he drew closer he saw that the containers by her side were baskets, magnificently woven from cedar bark.  “Good morning,” the woman replied, “Are you enjoying the fog?”

“It adds a nice mystery to the world,” Aaron replied.

“How nice of you to notice. Not all beings appreciate that about fog,” the woman answered back.

As Aaron drew closer to her, he could see that she was extraordinarily beautiful.  Her long hair framed a face full of vitality and the warmth from her eyes was the overflow from a bountiful heart. A touch of whimsy played around the corner of her mouth, and a profound strength radiated from her being.  Aaron was in awe.

“Who are you?”  he asked, feeling slightly embarrassed at the intensity with which he asked the question.

“Fog Woman,” came the reply.

“Then this fog is yours,” Aaron stated.

“No, not mine,” she said through her laughter. “It comes and goes at my beckon, yes, but I do not own it. You men worry so much about ownership.  It is a strange weight to carry in your souls.”

Fog woman was gathering the fog in with a gentle and fluid motion of her arms, pouring it into the two baskets that lay at either side of her. There was so much tenderness in her touch that Aaron had no doubt as to why the fog came when she called.

Aaron watched in quiet reverie watching Fog Woman calling the fog home to her baskets.  The blue of the sky began to peek through. Droplets of water that had formed on Fog Woman’s hair caught the emerging sunlight and became like tiny prisms. Soon the sky was clear and the last of the mist gently laid to rest in her baskets.

“Why two baskets?” Aaron asked.

“Why, one is female fog and the other one for the male fog.” Was her rely.

“There is a difference?” he asked.

“Of course there is. Male fog races to fill the spaces above the water and along the coastline.  Female fog emerges quietly, almost as a breath might stir the water.  Male fog cloaks the world in impervious curtains; female fog lays like a shawl upon the land. Male fog carries sound sharply, while female fog diffuses sound and makes it more round.  Come here. You can feel the difference.”

Aaron came to Fog Woman’s side.  She guided his hand into the two baskets.  One felt cool and he felt the distinct shape of his hand in it.  The other felt warmer, and in this basket his hand seemed to dissolve, much like the mist itself.

“I can feel the difference,” he announced.

“That is good. All men need to feel the dance of male and female in the world around them.  The men who damage themselves and the land are blind to the differences.  They cannot feel the weaving of male and female which makes the brilliance of this world.  The world to them is dull and they grope blindly through it trying to find the luster of life, all the while pushing themselves to greater extremes to fill the void in their souls.”

As Fog Woman spoke, Aaron felt himself more relaxed than he had been in a long, long time. The world seemed to shine, and he was suddenly able to see the dance she spoke of in everything around him.  The sea and the coast were a man and a woman caressing one another.  He saw the river and the earth in a gentle embrace. The flight of the eagle far above him was like the soaring of the male through the oceanic atmosphere of the female.

“Come Aaron, I have something to share with you.”  Aaron heard Fog Woman say.

He followed her clear invitation with no hesitation, around the next headland. Aaron saw an oddly shaped dwelling that he took to be her home.  Banners of all colors flew from poles mounted around the perimeter of the round home.  The structure was a chaotic weave of driftwood pieced together around the central ring of the home.

Fog Woman opened the door to her home and invited Aaron in.  As his eyes adjusted to the interior light, he saw a great basket in the center of the space.  The basket was as wide as Aaron’s outstretched arms and was woven from cedar bark and spruce roots. The rim of the basket was woven with detailed beadwork, and colorful ribbons hung from its edge.  The basket was empty.

“What is this?” asked Aaron.

“This is the world-womb basket.  I have woven this basket to balance the flight of my husband, Raven.  He is the maker of these lands.  He delivers the unseen into form and assists the Great Mystery in making visible the currents of creation.

“Without this basket, the flight of Raven would consume him and he would loose himself in the worlds of his making.  I have woven this basket out of my love for Raven and for the forms of this world, out of the depths of my own self.

“Every time a man creates something new, his actions must be balanced by an equal creation of space.  This is true for women as well. As we draw from the Creator energy to create new forms, we must balance this act with equal amounts of space.”

“Then there is nothing in the basket?” asked Aaron.

“True enough, Aaron, There is nothing in the basket. Only space.

“Raven comes home at the end of his day’s work, after all that he has created, and rests in the basket. In this way the strain of world-making is eased. He rests here, in the boundless space of the world-womb that I provide for him.  And it is here that he dreams the dreams which foreshadow his work in the world. He feels the shapes of things to come, and senses the way in which they may unfurl in the light of day. He rests in the great love of the Creator and all that is enfolded in the pulsing peace of this space.”

September 20, 2010

Greetings to you all in this precious network of women holding a place of silence ~ for ourselves, for the world, and for all our connections ~ visible and invisible, seen and unseen.  I am so glad to just send a few of my own reflections this month.

It is hard to believe that is has been a year since we initiated this day of silence.  I am thankful that Barbara has taken the lead in sending out a note of connection each month ~~ for me it adds a moment of contact and starts my preparation for the day of practice.  Thank you dear friend.

As each month has passed, I notice that I have had to meet many different challenges inside myself:  each Saturday it seems like I go through this sort of “mild anxiety” before I go to sleep and then the moment I wake up I feel so grateful.  I believe this is because the simple act of doing this on a regular basis means I have to shift “from known to unknown”, from fast to slow, from action to listening.

The biggest challenge for me all year was the one day in June where I had a singing concert on the day of Silence.  No matter how I conceived of it, being silent and singing just could not find a way into the same space ~~ and I truly love my local women’s singing group the “Norway Pond Festival Singers” ~~ however just because I could not sing in the concert didn’t mean I could not sing all the days leading up to it.  And then when the concert came ~ I just sang inside myself…

For some this may seem “rigid”…why not just do it the next day or just for a few hours “of singing” and then silence the rest of the day.  All of which could have been fine too…for me, in the end, it became apparent that this discipline of an actual day dedicated in this way was more important than to sing.

Having said the above, I want to deeply honor the multitude of ways that each one of us connecting with the place of silence inside ourselves ~ whether it is on your way home in the car in that half hour you have to yourself before you step in the door to greet kids and family; or the daily meditation of a walk or sitting or drawing or drinking your morning coffee and day-dreaming.  There are a million different ways to stay close to our own unique “wellspring of Being” ~~ may each of us continue to cultivate this place in whatever ways are real and powerful.

I have loved hearing the various ways that different women have taken advantage of this kind of time ~~ such inspiring vignettes that have been posted this last year ~~ and one that was not posted on the site but that I know about, which was my younger sister running a tri-athlon and she did it wearing her “I am practicing a day of Silence” tag!  Swimming, running, and biking in silence and listening to her own deep heartbeat ~ how beautiful is this ~

So, as the autumn comes in the north and the spring comes in the south, I am glad to connect with this circle.  The invitation for others to join remains, and if you have people you would like to know about our time, just send me a message and I will invite them on your behalf and send them the book “Listening Below the Noise”.

My love to you all.

Peri

August 24, 2010

Dear friends,

I am thinking about the world right now, and a swirl of chaos that seems pervasive. Prevailing mindsets search for ways to get through or over the incoherence onto solid ground. For myself, there is the need to be present with the unsettledness, with the release of cycles phasing out, with inability to see the patterns of the future clearly.  In conversations with myself I call this the “in between space”. Dwelling in this interlude, listening deeply, befriending all the feelings tied up in it, learning the protocols of creation in these spaces—all seem to be part of the art of living in these times. What if we find a world of unexpected resource and resourcefulness, in this profound uncertainty?

Our inner practices of silence, however we engage them, seem integral to the ground of being in the great wash of change. I greet you in the heart of silence, in the folds of grief, in the stirring of new potential, in the throes of fear, in our love for this earth, in the peace of simple things, and all that lies between.

Over the past couple years I have collected poetry that has supported the necessities of transition, pointing to a new quality of faith. I shared it with a friend last week who suggested I include it here, in case it is useful in some way to someone in this web.  Perhaps others have personal or found words which inspire, too. There is nothing comprehensive or particularly ordered about this assembly. Additions are welcome.

Happy Sunday,

Barbara Cecil

July 24, 2010

On behalf of my colleagues, too, I greet you in the arms of silence.
Honestly, I almost forgot, as I lost track of real time in the pages
of Stieg Larrson's Millenium Series.  I have thought a lot about why
the great swell of readership aside from the compelling, well-
constructed (though rough at times) read. For me it is because of a
great heroine who is moral, complex and unstoppable. The details and
the sensibility of a woman's life slowly reveal themselves-- not
unlike the equally great, unique story each one of us lives.  I am
always reaching for what the episodes of my life add up to. And I have
a hunch we all feel a bit abnormal in some personal  way.  What does
this have to do with silence?  Not sure, but I think awareness of my
story line is easier when the noise of the world is held at bay
periodically. Blessings on this day, tending your interior life, and
the unfolding meaning of you,

Barbara Cecil

Attached is a picture of a stone that I stumbled on recently in a dry river bed.  I
swear it's a picture of the story line....

June 24, 2010

Dear circle of friends,

We are heading into the June Day of Silence, following the Solstice, and a full moon this week accompanied by an eclipse. (That is Winter Solstice for you in the Southern Hemisphere, right?)  It feels like a global and personal season of change, with the earth speaking in various ways, and unrest evident in many nations. At the same time seeds for a new way of being on this earth are taking root.  I am thinking this month about the place of chosen silence as a home for fresh understanding and wise, deliberate choices born of a still heart.

This global community pulse originated on the shared impulse of those of us who guide the Coming Into Your Own (CIYO) program for women.  We recently had two more of those courses, which served well to open the way for meaningful and fulfilling movement into the future. The course is based on the field of possibility for our lives, which is accessed through this still place of origin.

I am attaching information about the next program, coming up in October this fall, in a PDF at the bottom of this note.  You may contact Dorian (dorian.baroni@gmail.com) if this would be of interest to you or any of your family or friends.

Thank you for the beauty of your being.

Barbara Cecil (for Dorian, Peri, Glennifer and Beth, too)

Below is a photo I took yesterday of a grandmother cottonwood tree. It divides into two large limbs.  The one on the left is dead and crumbling, as the wood in the core has rotted, and the one on the right is robust and healthy, full of new growth.  Both rest on the same massive trunk and root system.  It feels like a metaphor for our times.

May 30, 2010

Welcome to the May day of chosen silence.  My hope is that along the way, numbers of us will find this place of silence.  It is not an absence of anything, silence.  It is an experience, a world, a home of origin. May we meet there.  May we have the courage to live from here.

Last week I went to hear a community chorus called The Peace Choir. So deeply touching all the way through.  Why?  It came to me later that the tears were because of the place of silence from whence the song rose.

In the living heart of silence,
Barbara

April 24, 2010

Dear women in chosen silence,

Thinking of you this Sunday...

We have appreciated the adventurous spirit in which this “community” has engaged the challenges and gifts of taking an inward day, allowing the people and rhythms of our lives to adjust around us…the willingness to work with children and family to experiment with this practice, the more subtle and descriptive language emerging to describe the experience, the discoveries.  One friend slept for a whole day, a much needed rest. I have found that artistic expression, within the field we have held together, intensifies the creative flow, both in dance and my painting.  I will attach a painting I did of “silence”, inspired by the photo on Anne LeClaire’s book (taken by her son). I greet you on behalf of Glennifer, Peri, Beth, and Dorian, too.

With love,

Barbara

March 28, 2010

Looking forward to meeting you in the stillness,
Barbara, Peri, Dorian, Glennifer and Beth

February 26, 2010

Warm Greetings to the community of women who are connected to the monthly day of silence practice.  We will be with you this Sunday.

And Welcome to our blog:  www.insilencetogether.com

Warmly,
Glennifer, Dorian, Beth, Peri, and Barbara

January 27, 2010

Greetings to all who have been invited to join in our global circle of silence.  We have been working to get the blog in place so that we can share and learn from one another’s experiences. The blog is up and running now, and ready to receive your reflections at www.insilencetogether.com. We are already inspired by what has come in from around the world.

You will notice a video embedded in the introduction to the blog. It features Ann LeClaire speaking about her experience of two silent days a month over the last 17 years.  We invited her to speak to the women at one of The Ashland Institute’s retreats in Cape Cod this past november called "Coming Into Your Own" (www.ashlandinstitute.org/retreats.html).  Perhaps the spirit of her presence and words will be supportive.

The 2010 cycle begins this Sunday, January 31.

We look forward to sharing this space with you.

Peri Chickering, Barbara Cecil, Dorian Baroni, Glennifer Gillespie, Beth Jandernoa

Holiday Wishes 2009

Angel in the Window

If you would like to receive a monthly reminder of the Last Sunday Day of Silence, contact jennifer@ashlandvirtualassistant.com