The spirit of childhood is a spirit of simplicity and joy

The spirit of childhood is a spirit of simplicity and joy that goes together with the greatest intelligence and the most advanced knowledge. Here more than anywhere else the law of contrasts holds: one must be great to be secure enough to be truly childlike -- just as one must be strong to be infinitely gentle, and wise in order to permit oneself to be foolish. Spiritual childhood is a matter of trust and self-surrender into God's hands.

There is a child that exists in all of us

There is a child that exists in all of us. For some, this little boy or girl is buried alive under years of pain and abuse. As we uncover the child spirit, we experience the emotions, the thoughts and even the behaviors that have been repressed for decades. Unless at some point we are able to embrace our inner child at whatever age and stage it shows itself to us, we will re-enact childhood events in some very destructive and unconscious ways. Yet through this courageous work we find the pathway to joy, serenity and wholeness.

Those who have the humility of a child

Childhood is the foundation stone upon which stands the whole life structure.The seed sown in childhood blossoms into the tree of life.

Those who have the humility of a child may find again the key to reverence for, and kinship with, all of life.

The peacemakers are called children of God

The peacemakers are called children of God, because that is precisely what they are: the conscious offspring of the Creator. The peacemakers are men and women who have adventured down the avenues of healing and caught the current of their divine identity. The children of God share the spirits and purposes of God. The peacemakers have internalized the seven steps to wholeness outlined in the Beatitudes: they recognized their weaknesses; they long for what they need to change; they are gentle, unpretentious and nonviolent; they pursue right livelihood; they have compassion for others; their motivation is pure; they offer unconditional love to all.

The child that is born is an open bridge to the unconscious

The child that is born is an open bridge to the unconscious, to the unmanifest, expanded multidimensional soul. Babies are so magnificent. They're always staring off into space, into the eyes of their beloveds, of their companion souls, of God. We have all heard it said that the eyes are the windows of the soul, and the soul is very present in children... As we touch the child inside ourselves, we begin to shift from the emotional body's experience to the deeper, more profound love of our cosmic self. The child reminds us that God laughs.

Guess who I am

Guess who I am?
Guess who it is
that loves you --
you, who were the breaking of spring
in my heart
before the beginning of time;
guess who I am,
You, in the womb
before the day star I have begotten you.

The carefree hearts of children

The carefree hearts of children reflect qualities that are divine by their restless pranks and blissful for their innocence. It is for us to see how far we can make use of this "Divinity" in ourselves, expressed through the child-God.

To respond authentically to what we encounter

To respond authentically to what we encounter: this is how we all reacted as children, before we were punished or shamed for doing so. To respond authentically to what we encounter -- how hard it is for adults to do something that sounds so simple.

To do so, we only have to be inwardly attentive, we only have to know what we feel, we only have to be able to respond with an innocent, spontaneous, instinctive receptivity that is a finely attuned discriminating consciousness, a body and soul reaction to the world around us.

I spoke it in my childhood

Once, in the early days of my desolution, I thought I might learn to write in the language of the spiders. Now, led by the Child, I am on my way to it. The true language, I know now, is that speech in silence in which we first communicated, the Child and I, in the forest, when I was asleep. It is the language I used in my childhood, and some memory, intangibly there by not quite audible, of our marvelous conversations, comes to me again at the very edge of sleep, a language my tongue almost rediscovers and which would, I believe, reveal the secrets of the universe to me the language whose every syllable is a gesture of reconciliation. I spoke it in my childhood. I must discover it again.

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