|
|
We shed the lived off
seconds, minutes and years like necrotic tissue. We exchange our epidermis
seasonally for some tougher, more rigid cover, with a stubborn desire to
isolate ourselves from the surrounding world more and more. In due course we
develop the skill to foresee and recognize the slightest hints of potential
threat to our acquired comfort. As our protective cocoon grows coarse, like
the bark of a tree, so like a tree is the soul within, preserving the annual
rings of imprints and scars of past experience. There comes a moment,
when having secured ourselves thus against the world, an unbearable fear
overcomes us at the mere thought of an alien intrusion into the inner privacy
of calm and balance. But if we slow the pace
to sit down and peel away the crusty cover, we can expose the rings of the
soul. We can find that it is possible to reach those very first rings- the
most pure and true ones at the core. And if we practice this often, the world
with start to react and respond. Probably the main thing
is to remember your beginnings with the novelty of experience, and not to
lose the acuteness of perception. Touch the surface, revel in the texture,
and give thanks for your gift of touch.
|
