What enters the conscious mind is such a small part of our life. We draw from depths that are hidden to us, depths we feed and that feed us; disturb or are disturbed by us; depths that allow us to connect to life, or cut us off from life.
Most of what we are is determined by elements within ourselves that we have been unconscious of. Yet the invitation is always there to open, to trust, to soar.
So it is with the wild world that surrounds us. We imagined it was subdued by the twentieth century, yet it remains, in the movement of the wind, in the eye of bird, and always in our own hearts, and in the hearts of those we meet
And our hearts still beats with a rhythm that was laid down before human memory. Through this continuing emergency of wars and global devastations there is a natural capacity for healing and self-remembering that draws us home to those ancient roots, a power and wisdom that we know in our bones.
The Buddha spoke of it, and pointed the way, though it is not exclusively Buddhist in nature. That rhythm is still open to us. Perhaps now, more than ever before, there is a calling to come home to that rhythm, to come home to more than who we have been.
