I think happiness is overrated, but joy is the key to the thousands of possible moods we can feel. And when we can rest in that joy, then peace is the moment of openness that holds all feeling.

Who's to say the effort to be real isn't the beginning of wings?

Just opening quietly for moments everyday can create a path by which life can reach us, the way rain carves a little stream in the earth by which the smallest flowers are watered.

Our job is not to expose the mystery but to participate in it.

We think that accomplishing things will complete us, when it is experiencing life that will.

We are broken open, or we willfully shed.

Those who truly love us will never knowingly ask us to be other than we are