I can't be found in myself; I discover myself in others. That much is clear. And I suspect that I also love and care for myself in others.

But it's morning. Within my hands is another day. Another day to listen and love and walk and glory. I am here for another day.

Every moment that I am centered in the future I suffer a temporary loss of this life.

It is enough that I am of value to somebody today.

There is no place love is not.

Whenever we condemn, we cloak the world in pain.

Boredom or discontent is useful to me when I acknowledge it and see clearly my assumption that there's something else I would rather be doing. In this way boredom can act as an invitation to freedom by opening me to new options and thoughts. For example, if I can't change the activity, can I look at it more honestly?