Author name: MaryBeth Scalice

Dear Hearts, Perhaps I have become somewhat expert in seeing the dynamics of fear. Or maybe this reflection is ego gloating, marveling in a pretense of “self” understanding.  In truth, the Voice for Love responds softly and swiftly as I get enmeshed in hurtful thoughts and express interest in illusions. This piece presents a humorous glimpse at the insanity of small mind as it attempts to solve […]

My joy has not been found in the endless classrooms of forgiveness.  The joy of my journey is not in the shame of repetitively naming small self-absorptions. Certainly, there is relief in surrender. I come again to remember, I am holy, you are holy. But joy is not expressed through the personal witness of error. There is a

When I got down on my knees last nightI bowed my head. I asked for nothing,shedding desires for anything but God.The prickling of skin revealed a field of energy.I fell into a womb of utmost purity.She held meuntil…I noticed.It was the briefest second,a little blip of a thought of separationthat boldly suggested:              Oh how pious, how good

Can we hold each other a little more tenderly? Can we sweep our hearts of worldly illusions and rest in each other’s sorrow without fear of being unduly touched?  And what if we are? What if the wound of another, of the world, of our brother compels us to feel?  Is that not an awakening

Dear Hearts, Are you lying? Do you know the difference between what is true and false? Have you noticed how easy it is to tell yourself a fib, to live a little fantasy, to let what is untrue grab hold of you?    We all make promises to God, to ourselves and our dearest ones. 

It is not just the recent burning of Superior, Colorado that brings me to grief.  My children are fine. We had a series of miracles that left their house standing in the midst of ash and ruin, untouched, undamaged. That image reminds me of my personal life, a house in the midst of a burning

Dear Hearts,   Perhaps it is a simple divide we are crossing, turning the page of one day and finding ourselves in the book of the new year. 2022. Some would say it is all the same, one minute to the next. But I feel there is something quite different, striking in difference. The new

Praise My soul is a song that praises the Beloved. My soul is the light that shines Resplendent Ray. Praise is imminent in my humanity. That Which Created me is Love appraising Self. Praise is transcendent in my Divinity My Spirit is poetry on high.   I sound like the bells of a thousand basilicas.

God Is Not Bits and Pieces, Portions and Parts  Dear Hearts The conversations I have with Jess are immaculately Sourced in love but sometimes the writings boggle the worldly mind with out-of-the-box metaphors and esoteric designs.  I have at times judged them to be inappropriate for your eyes. I have thought it better to hide

Dear Hearts, …it can be simple, as simple as realizing the oneness of the embrace. Within the embrace you can let all thought go… you can quit thinking even of holy things, holy men and women, and even divine beings… ACOL C 20.21 Maybe its not so dramatic.  All these wayfarers gathering and telling stories,