There is a gentle meadow in back of my house. Its quiet demeanor is never far from my awareness as I walk through the rooms that make up my little cottage far from the clamoring world. I live on an island that it is surrounded by a thoughtful sea that brings waves and waves of constancy for me to dwell upon as I gaze over its expanse. Its movements cradle me. I am contained by kindness.
In the back room of my house there is a tiny secret door that has no need of a lock, it keeps itself open for me. It is my entrance into this world for I do not come from here. Because it is my dearest wish to visit, I do so every morning. Mornings were invented for this purpose, though it appears no one knows this. There is much talk of “mysteries” here, which is funny to me as All has been given to be known.
Until today, I have thought it best to not speak of this natural start to the day, for it is not deemed scientific. But it gives me great peace of mind to tell the truth and it makes me feel in good accord with myself when I hear myself say it. No one can prove Life’s reality to another, one can only live it in oneself. We each are sacred Beings. There is no mystery in that.