He was still and gazed deeply into the infinite pool that bears stars into being. Above him was a tiny smudge of light that was the closest galaxy. It was spinning, spinning, but so far away that one could look for a whole lifetime and not see it alter. The galaxies out there whirled into each other like discs, blinding into space without colliding--passing through each other at thousands of miles per second, yet they did not appear to move.
Suddenly he understood: Time is an illusion of the mind. Only love remains.
The journey to the self is hard work, not so much because of its periodic intensity, but because it demands superhuman honesty and a lot of attention... But the unconscious had spoken:
Can you really walk what you talk?
Why are you afraid to live your passion?
Can you live from your heart and not be afraid of who you are?
Can you create out of your flesh rather than your intellect?
Live what you know! There are no obstacles that can't be overcome on this journey!