The door to the heart opens on the realization that the ground of our being, the essence of who we are, is formless. All else is congealed energy. “Our bodies are like prisons,” said Einstein, “and I look forward to be free, but I don’t speculate on what will happen to me. I live here now, and my responsibility is in this world now.”
“When you realize yourself as less than a point in space and time, something too small to be cut and too short-lived to be killed, then, and then only, all fear goes.”
Let us view the span of our years through the lens of time-lapse photography—and in that corybantic kinesis, in the sudden rising and falling of things, have it made plain: No-thing lasts.