There are no secrets. Are you alone on Faraway Beach? The sand is a massed choir. The stones whisper to one another.
The further down the path we go, the quieter it gets. Being waxes, doing wanes.
The hallmark of the hero is his detachment. As life directs, he’s ready to go. Or not. In either case, he’s untethered to an agenda. His heart sings a song to itself.
Only the unexpected is true. We embody the holy real when we’re astonished.
First we get educated. Then, at some point, we are seized with the necessity of getting de-educated. It took Leonard Cohen five-and-a-half years as a caregiver on Mount Baldy to blank his slate.