Tuesday.
“This is the best,” I said. I was walking on the beach; it was quarter to eight in the morning, low tide, cool breeze—the low angle of sunrays lit the earth and sky into such rich, deep, otherworldly golden tones that I felt I had ascended to a higher realm. I half-expected to see luminous beings walking without touching the ground or riding unicorns and dolphins.
Tuesday.
“This is the best,” I said. I was walking on the beach; it was quarter to eight in the morning, low tide, cool breeze—the low angle of sunrays lit the earth and sky into such rich, deep, otherworldly golden tones that I felt I had ascended to a higher realm. I half-expected to see luminous beings walking without touching the ground or riding unicorns and dolphins.
The beauty struck me with such force that I said, out loud, “this is the best.” But it’s not really the best. It’s still the material world, where the best can all too easily and quickly turn into the worst.
Wednesday.
When I was growing up, my mother used to say, when buying some article of clothing that was one size too large for me, “You’ll grow into it.”
I’m starting to see how the human body is like that. It’s meant for the full realization of the soul’s potential. There’s a big difference between being born in a human body and becoming a full-fledged human being. Sometimes I meet people who are so wise, cultured, compassionate, disciplined, and spiritually awake—the best things a human can be—that I wonder, “When am I going to grow into these clothes?”