The real home

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I sit in the cool back room, where words cease to resound, where all mornings are absorbed in the consonantia of heat, fragrant pine, quiet wind, birdsong, and one central tonic note that is unheard and unuttered. Not the meditation of books, or of pieties, or of systematic trifles. In the silence of the afternoon all is present and all is inscrutable. One central tonic note to which every other sound ascends or descends, to which every other meaning aspires, in order to find its true fulfillment. To ask when the note will sound is to lose the afternoon: it has sounded, and all things now hum with the resonance of its sounding.    – Thomas Merton, journal entry, May 1965

The country that is nowhere is the real home.   – journal entry, May 30, 1968

Wake up and be vigilant

“The Lord has plucked up proud men by their roots, and planted the lowly peoples.” “He has put down the mighty.”
If I were more attentive to the word of God I would be much less troubled and disturbed by events of our time: not that I would be indifferent or passive, but I could gain strength of union with the deepest currents of history, the sacred currents, which run opposite to those on the surface a great deal of the time!
“Do not quarrel about a matter that does not concern you; and when sinners judge, do not sit in council with them.” (Ecclesiastes).
This especially strikes me: “Be wary, take very great care, because you are walking with your own downfall; when you hear such things, wake up and be vigilant.” It seems to me that at the moment I very much need this kind of “attention” and “listening,” for I have come to the most serious moments of my life.
– Thomas Merton, journal entry, May 11, 1965