If, as we work, we can transmit life into our work,
life, still more life, rushes into us to compensate, to be ready
and we ripple with life through the days.
Even if it is a woman making an apple dumpling,
or a man, a stool,
if life goes into the pudding, good is the pudding,
good is the stool,
content is the woman, with fresh life rippling in to her,
content is the man.
The process of establishing ourselves in a habitual state of compassionate love takes place in the context of countless failure to be compassionate.But this proves to be no hindrance as long as we commit ourselves to being compassionate toward ourselve in our failings to be compassionate.Even our failures to be compassionate prove to be but new opportunities . . .This process of yielding to compassionate love unfolds and deepens over a lifetime of learning that when all is said and done, love is the playing field where we most truly meet ourselves and others as we really are, precious in our collective frailty.