Lucille was an unknown to me, having read in nonduality for many years, a 'hidden' gem. I rarely rate a book 5, preferring to see 5 as a rarity. The Perfume of Silence I cannot rate less than rarely exceptional.
This wise treasure chest of gems of guidance, sessions of dialogue in satsang, bring one word to mind as descriptive: inspirational. Lucille's style is simply beautiful in itself, flowing with the effulgence of Truth he points us to. His use of commonplace imagery to represent profound wisdom is amazing. Yet, for Lucille, the amazing is in plain site, so close and so ordinary we miss it. Lucille guides with humbleness and gentleness, yet can be lovingly stern and direct.
Some guides in Lucille's genre of work, appear to present a perfectionism that betrays the essence of nonduality as something we must relax into and embrace the mess of duality itself as an expression of Truth. Some guides, likewise, appear to conflate monism (1) and nonduality (1 + 1=1). Lucille, to me, invites duality alongside nonduality, or the marriage of the One and the Many.
Lucille, of all nonduality guides I have read, offers the most clarifying insight into progress in moving from being located as body, and, so, in objects, to being consciousness in which body, and all objects, appear. Some guides will advise not to engage any spiritual practice and deny any progress, while Lucille advises acknowledgement of both of these. For Lucille, practice is to be engaged without a purpose, or goal, trusting the process itself. Lucille, then, agrees with other nonduality guides who stress that goals of progress block realization of oneness. I have, yet, to discern how anyone can advise spiritual practice, speak of the benefits, and, then, advise engagement of a path to those benefits without a purpose. One could say this is an apparent contradiction, expressing the paradox of the path, or that this is a performative error in most teachings on nonduality.
Two key concepts in Lucille's teaching are "welcoming" and "benevolent indifference." Wisdom, for Lucille, is welcoming life to unfold on its own, our participation arising from that unfolding, without our seeking to determine outcome. We love life, yet are indifferent, not as a cold, uncaring attitude, but joyful and trusting communion in mutual welcoming.
Simply put, Lucille invites us to trust life itself and ourselves as that life. Lucille points us to the freedom in moving from "my will" to "thy will." In that "thy," we welcome God ~ a term Lucille is not hesitant to use, thankfully ~ and, so, ourselves.