You perceive yourself as being solid and physical, limited to a body. You are made up of light, endless mind. The way you see life is a limited state of mind.

As the meditation evolves, you attention passes into higher realms of consciousness.

In one particular chapter in Ulysses, James Joyce imitates every major writing style that's been used by English and American writers over the last 700 years - starting with Beowulf and Chaucer and working his way up through the Renaissance, the Victorian era and on into the 20th century.

As long as you wish to separate yourself from the immortal consciousness, you will suffer. You will experience the pain of the separation, the abridgment of infinite mind in finite form.

Think about these things and see if they make sense to you. You will find that work will no longer be a four-letter word. It will be a three-letter word: fun.

The condition of humankind is not good, in the sense that the illusory prisons we create for ourselves through our desires and our frustrations are unhappy.

We are trying to do our best to bring perfection into whatever we turn our attention to.