Each age has its own tasks. For most of us now, our monasteries have no walls except the silence our meditation gathers to the center of our lives, and this is enough—it is more than enough. Our hermitage is the act of living with attention in the midst of things; amid the rhythms of work and love, the bath with the child, the endlessly growing paperwork, the ever-present likelihood of war, the necessity for taking action to help the world. For us, a good spiritual life is permeable and robust. It faces things squarely knowing the smallest moments are all we have, and that even the smallest moment is full of happiness.
~ from THE LIGHT INSIDE THE DARK by John Tarrant, as reprinted in AN ALMANAC FOR THE SOUL by Marv and Nancy Hiles
Why is it so difficult to give up old perceptions when it is clear that what we really know is only a fraction of what there is to be known? The tiny fraction we see is not the only way it is. Whenever we say, "I know it," it means that we no longer want to struggle with other ways of seeing it. But the way we once saw it may not be the way it is now. Certainly the way something is now does not determine that it will always be that way because we are, all of us, on a journey whose ultimate destination is unknown.