We run after love for fear of abandonment, we run after pleasure for fear of pain; we are not made to run after something, but to live what we already are.

If you bow only to the infinite that is within you. You will stand in front of the entire world.

Give of your splendor to everyone. Like the sun.

Live and walk as if you were reaching the highest version of yourself. Like hands and breath stretched to the sun.

You know it too, this very hour of the morning when life is barely hatched. The sun melting under the snow. The bud breathing under the frost. The numbed wing of the bird. The morning has its truths that whisper only in a low voice. Very low. We have to be silent. God walks barefoot in the gardens.