With the word creative we stand under a mystery. And from time to time that mystery, as if it were a sun, sends down upon one head or another, a sudden shaft of light—by grace, one feels, rather than deserving, for it always is something given, free, unsought, unexpected. It is useless, possibly even profane, to ask for an explanation.
Solitude is an attitude of gratitude ... It is a state of mind, a state of heart, a whole universe unto itself. The early contemplatives in all traditions knew this secret of happiness -- that being alone was a great gift. And whether or not we sit upon the mountain top or kitchen stool, whether we seek a sacred place or simply stir the soup, the message is the same. For what does it mean to be alone, if not to be all one. To be who you are already in your deepest self, to be happy.
