If we knew what to pray for, every prayer would be answered. But we don’t. And they aren’t. Knowing that we don’t know is love’s first humiliation. It doesn’t mean we stop praying. It just means that henceforth we pray silently, without any words.
I very much like the title of Zen Master Matthew Juksan Sullivan’s new book, The Garden of Flowers and Weeds. Oddly, the fulness of my affection obviates the need to buy the book.
“And we know that all things work together for good.” Notice this especially: Not a few things or many things but all things. There is an arising consciousness around the world. Old structures are falling away as certain agents of transformation do their level worst to hasten the process.
As we continue our journey into the Self, we discover that some of our memories have left a scar. The man who was beaten as a boy does not, cannot forget what happened. The inner journey is the path of self-acceptance. Scars and all.
I am rough and refined, healthy and sick, an old man and a boy, a sage and a fool.
Men's Work 