Real love is always difficult, as the German poet Rilke said, because "it is a high inducement for the individual to ripen, to become something in himself, to become a world, to become a world in himself for the sake of another, it is a great, demanding claim on him, something that chooses him and calls him to vast distances." Eventually, love forces us to turn within. In the Symposium, his meditation on love, Plato called love a child of fullness and emptiness, suggesting that there is a kind of desolation built into every love. There comes a moment in the progress of most loves when lovers feel isolated and unfulfilled, because they have discovered that they cannot find real and enduring meaning by reaching outside themselves, clinging to their lover. . . They may see that it is only by daring to open to the silence at the center of themselves that they can begin to feel the presence of the One whom they have been searching for all along.
If we want to live like a feather on the Wind, we must strive at least once a day to taste the peace of paradise that dwells within us. We need to find some time each day to sit quietly in peace, in stillness, savoring the mystery of God within us. Such silent sitting will not only prepare us to find "eternal rest" at the time of our death; it will help us find infinite peace in the midst of the problems of life.