Innermost House Weblog
We have left Innermost House twice, the first time four years ago this autumn. That last night the house was all packed away and empty, but for only the three porch chairs we brought inside...
Today I want to try to talk about a special kind of love... I think that if friendship had come naturally to me, the Conversation as I know it might never have existed. I might not have needed it enough...
I am so grateful for our life as guests in the world. It has taught me things and freed me to live in friendship in a way I could never have enjoyed as the mistress of a house in any ordinary householding way...
Our moves were from sanctuary to sanctuary. Sometimes our search in this or that direction simply would not yield, and then we would find ourselves apart and exposed for months at a time, living in hotels and elsewhere...
Most of my life people have treated me very kindly. I think I am treated a little like a foreigner towards whom kind people naturally feel considerate. It doesn't seem to matter where I am, in this country or abroad...
All of my life I have been guided by a feeling. I would say it is like a memory, but it is more present than a memory. It is more a kind of enclosing dream through which I see and hear everything that lies beyond it. I cannot see apart from it...
After a time away I always approach Innermost House with a feeling of high expectation. It is always the same, as if with each step along the way I approach more nearly to our place out of time...
I have been thinking about what it can mean in the world to be "around the fire." I have always turned toward the long succession of fires my husband and I have lived around. But I think it is different in the world...
Dear Sherry, I know from our friends on the Facebook page how loved you are by everyone here. I am so very sorry to hear that you have lost your dear husband, Dale...
Innermost House is my world, but it is not of the world. Nothing and no one enters here who has not abandoned some hope of ordinary worldly strength, the kind of strength that relies for its identity on ordinary wealth and power and position...
I don't like to own things. Least of all have I wished to own land. I don't believe we could ever have made our way to Innermost House without our many moves from place to place...
It rained last night. I love the rain. It weds things together a little into a dream landscape. The separateness and distinction that stands out in the sunshine is a little diminished in the rain...
When I look back upon Innermost House now I look inward. It is no longer like a memory of the past. It is in the present, but somehow inward even of the present moment I occupy in the moving time of the world outside...
A year ago or so ago I found myself writing that I wasn't sure I possessed what is ordinarily called a conscience. That was in response to a definition of religion...
I am often asked about the supernatural neatness of Innermost House. I must say it is tidy. But if there is anything supernatural about it, it is only that I am the one who keeps it that way!
I am not really a mysterious person. But it is true that the last seven years of my life have been cloaked in a mystery not of my making. Some mysteries I think may belong to the nature of things...
Innermost House lies in my heart now. It is a condition of soul to which you and I have equal claim, from which we were made and to which we are forever returning in Conversation...
Most compelling of all to me is the evidence of my own experience. Eight or nine years ago, my husband passed into a period of spontaneous meditation and prayer that altered forever the shape of our life...
Thirty years ago I went seeking shelter. I fled the southern California of my birth in search of a relationship to life that I could not describe. When I look back now I see that what I sought was shelter from the light, and I sought it in darkness...
I wonder if any effort we can make would bring about so great a change in our natural relations as receiving the woods as an honored guest at our firesides, and opening our hearts to her in gentle conversation?
Every new day is a wonder to me. When you have dreamed you were lost, and you wake to find your way home, is there anything like that waking?
I love the body and soul of the Conversation. To me it is the beginning and the end of everything. For many years I thought that my husband and I in our house were alone in that love...