When the pasture of your mind is large enough, you don’t know what is over the next hill. Your

If we can maintain our ability to just be with whatever happens—even as our mind becomes increasingly swampy, constantly pouring over the past and projecting into the future—at some point the pollution settles and an even deeper clarity than before arises.

Being “in the mountains meeting the mountains” means you are meeting your true interbeing nature.

When intimacy is present, any notion of otherness vanishes.

We’re able to live with a rhythmic ease as our need to be anyone other than who we are vanishes.

If we see this dissatisfaction in an attentive, nonjudgmental way, our slumping usually corrects itself.

Fritz Perls captured the mood perfectly in his oft-repeated catchphrase, “Lose your mind and come to your senses.”

Whatever your rock may be, see it, hang out with it a while with kind, gentle attention, give it all the space it needs to air its grievance, and then release it, allowing it to return to the stream of quietude and stillness that includes everything—even the rocks.

On this road walks no one this autumn eve.