The best moments any of us have as human beings are those moments when for a little while it is possible to escape the squirrel-cage of being me into the landscape of being us.

To remember the past is to see that we are here today by grace, that we have survived as a gift.

Each one of us could describe his or her life as a sacred journey. You are journeying from the beginning to the end, and what makes it sacred is that in the process of this journey you encounter the holy in various forms which, unless you have your eyes open, you might not even notice.

The trouble with really seeing and really hearing is that then we really have to do something about what we have seen and heard.

Maybe at the heart of all our traveling is the dream of someday, somehow, getting Home.

Beneath our clothes, our reputations, our pretensions, beneath our religion or lack of it, we are all vulnerable both to the storm without and the storm within.

We find by losing. We hold fast by letting go. We become something new by ceasing to be something old.