For some minutes my mind knows only a silent stillness within, a meditation without effort, a celebration of occasion. Slowly my vision focuses on a bird of red-streaked, chocolate-covered feathers and bright orange beak... I have been watching her a long while now without registering, labeling or defining her particular condensation of being, taking her as much for granted as she appears to take me. So beautiful. So natural. A bird in a tree.
In every adult there lurks a child --
and eternal child,
something that is always becoming,
is never completed,
and calls for unceasing care,
attention and education.
That is part of the human personality
which wants to develop and
become whole.