Memory is the repository of the past, which is where most of our living takes place. We have divided life into past, present, and future, and this division, like all of our divisions, removes us from the fullness of living, from the mysterious unknown and unknowable movement of life that is the source of all beauty. The past exists only in memory, and the future is merely a projection of past memories. Now, this moment, is all there is.
Dance, my heart! Dance today with joy. The strains of love fill the days and the nights with music, and the world is listening to its melodies. Made with joy, life and death dance to the rhythm of this music. The hills and the sea and the earth dance. The world of man dances in laughter and tears. Why put on the robe of the monk, and live aloof from the world in lonely pride? Behold! My heart dances in the delight of a hundred arts; and the Creator is well pleased.
