Your hand opens and closes, opens and closes. If it were always a fist or always stretched open, you would be paralysed. Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding, the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated as birds’ wings.
The end is the beginning of all things, suppressed and hidden, awaiting to be released through the rhythm of pain and pleasure… Pain itself destroys pain. Suffering itself frees man from suffering.
‘New’ is a beautiful word which opens up many possibilities. If every day can be viewed as ‘New’ then, life blossoms - like new leaves, buds, flowers and fruit - full of colour, fragrance, taste and rasa: the very essence of living.
There are always difficulties arising which tempt you to believe that your critics are right. To map out a course of action and follow it to an end requires courage.
A life without love is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead. The consciousness of loving and being loved brings a warmth and richness to life that nothing else can bring.
