I am pure light, not just a fistful of clay. The shell is not me, I came as the royal pearl within. Look at me not with outward eye but with inward vision of the heart; Follow me there and see how unencumbered we become. Rumi
“A young farm labourer passed me. I suddenly understood what Traherne meant when he said that men looked to him like angels. Again, it was a matter of seeing through to the inward vitality, the essence—what Boehme called the ‘signature’. I smiled at the farm labourer, and he smiled back…
Very conveniently along the route of my morning run there is a certain path before the riverside track continues under a bridge, where I can ascend out of the dark to a street-lit thoroughfare, across from which stands a building and if I type the code and a hash, I…
