June Meditation, 2021



It has been a very full time this last month. Several large house projects which have been going on since March are coming to completion. And then there is this little book of mine - seven years in the writing - which is now at the printer and is on track to come out on August 17. A labor of love, requiring perseverance, commitment, and lots of long walks to convince myself to keep going!

As I turn my sights towards the last Sunday of June, I am deeply ready for a day of silence.

Sitting with this overcast morning, a memory of a photo on a past silence meditation kept coming to mind. So, I went into the website archives and found the photo and the meditation: February 2015. There are so many incredible meditations which have come forward over these last twelve years! This seems a beautifully fitting piece to share again – and I love the fact that it originally came to us from a dear colleague and frienAcheson.

Thank you Ann – and thank you all. May you find a moment or moments to be with yourself this weekend and embrace the silence so steadily holding all of creation.

Warmest,


Peri (and Barbara)

Keeping Quiet

Now we will count to twelve and we will all keep still for once on the face of the earth, let's not speak in any language; let's stop for a second, and not move our arms so much. It would be an exotic moment without rush, without engines; we would all be together in a sudden strangeness. Fishermen in the cold sea would not harm whales and the man gathering salt would not look at his hurt hands. Those who prepare green wars, wars with gas, wars with fire, victories with no survivors, would put on clean clothes and walk about with their brothers in the shade, doing nothing. What I want should not be confused with total inactivity. Life is what it is about... If we were not so single-minded about keeping our lives moving, and for once could do nothing, perhaps a huge silence might interrupt this sadness of never understanding ourselves and of threatening ourselves with death. Perhaps the earth can teach us As when everything seems dead And later proves to be alive. Now I'll count up to twelve and you keep quiet and I will go. ~ Pablo Neruda ~