In my life-long impatience, how much I have missed. Last night, washing the dishes, I really looked at my iron frying pan in the dishwater. The light made visible for a moment a tiny rainbow—a light through water revealing all the colors of life. It is so easy to miss the tiny symbols. Finding them is quite different from the business of trying to hatch up big symbolic experiences. It is RECOGNITION, not PURSUIT, of meaning—recognition of the sacramental, of the intersection of the two worlds, breaking through unsought because one is ATTENDING.
I have come to know simple truths that before were so disguised by my complexity. I have come to know the inner vision that sees with so much clarity. I've come to know me, the gentleness of my spirit, as it may express through love and tenderness. I've come to know power in a way that is personal and creative. My personal power of choice. I've come to know love; love of self and others is the same. I've come to know the oneness of all who walk the planet in an attempt to journey home.