Selected writings from Clare Cameron

The Silence of the Seed

When we first discover the treasure to be found in the life of the Spirit we want to tell others about it, especially when they are unhappy, sick or impoverished in some way. And so we lend them books, send them pamphlets, take them to some teacher who has helped us. In our ardour to share, it is a most natural impulse. Sometimes we may get little response from the troubled friend and wonder why.
Then we may say:

‘I expect they are not ready.’

The truth nearer the mark is that perhaps we are not ready.
There is a time to speak and a time to be silent, and a sign of our growth in discrimination is that as we learn more of the deeper truth revealed to us from within, we tend to become more silent. Our experiences – delicate, subtle and profound as they often are – can only be discussed with those who are also passing that way, or have already done so in their own increasing maturity and knowledge of God. By some intangible intuition, we not only know with whom to share but often cannot help doing so. Some spark kindles a spark in the other, so that there is illumined communion. Few words are necessary. The other knows of what we speak. We also know what he is feeling. This is the blending of souls in the service of God, and as in all true communion, we are re-inspired and refreshed. Such souls come together in Someone or Something far greater than either of them, and they know it – and it is an awesome as it is a beautiful experience which invokes our worship. It can only take place when both souls are serving the Kingdom of God first, and it cannot be commanded. It is a gift of Grace and can happen between complete strangers.

At other times, when there is not this bond of spiritual kinship where two seem to dissolve into one in the One, often we long to help someone struggling in a morass of difficulty – and do not know what to say or do. How to find the invisible link then?

We can always and immediately pray. While listening or reading that letter, we can let the love of the compassionate Christ flow towards that soul. We can ask for guidance. Sometimes in the very act of listening, we do not so much hear the actual words as sense what may be the real trouble, unconfessed. That Divine love, for which we are the willing channel, reaches the dark, fearful corners of some heart and brings balm. It is the Comforter. When the friend leaves us, he or she may say how much better they feel – yet we have scarcely said a word. We have just listened. But something has happened through us, aware as we are of having so little wisdom of our own, and knowing that mere human sympathy is not enough, helpful and necessary though it is…

Boundless are the horizons upon all that we have to discover and to share. In the secret places of silence we grow straight and true and will help others to grow straight and true also. For when we serve God’s purpose, He will help us lead others to find their own true purpose, which is Divine. However ardent our desires may be, for ourselves or others, this is the direct, the safe, the most beautiful and rewarding way.

Earth and Water

I am green earth’s daughter,
Sister to wind and water
And fathered by the sun.
From an ancient magic
Fashioned was my fabric
Ere the flesh was spin.

Where the deer are running
Habitation shunning,
Swiftly through the glade,
With all shy and wild things
On powerful or bright wings
There my track is made.

White snow of December
And the glowing ember
Of the autumnal tree,
Stillness of the moonlight
And the grace of moth-flight
Also dwell in me.

Where the birds are questing
Find my spirit resting
In trackless path of sky,
The privileged partaker
Of Being, and my Maker,
In His breast to lie.

O beautiful, my kindred,
Come ye then, unhindered,
Passing through, yet free!
For there is no telling
The boundary of my dwelling
In far infinity.

Sussex Downland Images

Original images of Sussex Downland by Rachel Helmore

The Commonplace

'Seek the sacred within the ordinary. Seek the remarkable within the commonplace.' ~ Rebbe Nachman of Breslov