Intentional solitude from time to time is like going into a messy closet, closing the door, and sorting through the clutter. Some things need to be shelved. Some things need to be let go of and placed outside for the trash collection.

Celtic theologian John O'Donohue calls this place of desire "the vortex of eros." Life may conceal our desires in busyness or defended solitude, but eros slumbers just below the surface of our tightly buttoned-up selves. Eros is not just sexual; it is a chemical and spiritual response to any beauty. Beauty is a human longing that smolders

At the root of beauty is eros, a primordial inner GPS that guides us to what we desire. It is how the species survives: the colors and shapes of bodies, the arousal inside us when we see something we interpret as beautiful.

What I notice about kindness is that it is a two-handed act. One must put down other things—being right, being sure, being judgmental, being self-righteous. These must be put down in order to pick up kindness. Kindness is like a big box; it takes both hands to hold and requires us to walk gently so as not to trip.

What I notice about myself is that I make time for things that are important, and I find time for everything else.

As I reread my chapter on study and formation, I remember and reattach myself to my longing to be informed and formed. When I remember this desire for curiosity, I stop trying to find the time and commit to making the time for study.

Detachment, even from something dearly beloved and something one is convinced one has earned or deserves, is a freeing spiritual practice. As we strive to live our best lives, we must also be able to detach and move on. Detachment means we live with open cool hands rather than sweaty, clenched fists.

This chapter in your Rule will be your self-coaching around letting go of things, situations, jobs, relationships, and even health and life.

Discernment asks about our "yes." Discretion asks about the "no."