There is something really special about a candle flame.

It feels alive. It actually glows.

I like to eat dinner with a candle. There’s a moodiness that just seems so right, like we’re in a higher presence.

I tried an interesting meditation practice. I stare at a candle as long as possible without blinking, and then close my eyes. I was surprised to see the yellow flame, with my eyes closed, turn into a deep purple box. It was so clear. It was amazing.

Listening may be the least practiced and most important skill you can master.

I was a salesman in my past life. And in competing with five of the largest companies in a certain field, it was my turn to give my presentation. When I went up to the podium to present, my client started to attack, and made an accusation of my company and myself.

It’s a hot, sultry evening. The sun’s warm rays, basking the earth all day, has left a comfortable blanket covering the front lawn.

The moon is new, and the darkness that swept in with the outgoing sun provides a perfect background for a laser light show.

How peaceful and utterly void of light is your yard. It’s dark, and you’re enjoying the tranquility that accompanies absolute stillness.

What’s that? Hey what was that?

Out of the corner of your eye, you think you saw a flash of light.

There it is again!

Life’s a beach
Spending the day at the beach
At least at hour
Here in Cove Point, Stamford
The boats coming thru
The water glistening
I am thinking this is really making me feel a lot better
I can just feel
The calmness from the sea
The ripples of the wave
I am so grateful I am able to be here today
If only a brief period of time
The time here can be such a renewal
To my spirit, to my physical self, my emotional self
The only thing I am looking at
The children playing
The barbquing, smelling the aromas
The dogs

Is age just a number
Is the number of years that you are young
Telling of your vitality, your energy, your philosophy
How you live your life
I went with my friend the other day to visit a friend of hers
Her name is Celeste
And it was an amazing experience
Because Celeste is 100 years young
She is from France
She has been living in the US actually locally in Litchfield County for quite some time
My friend was there to buy a boxwood a miniature boxwood that you don’t have to trim
From her which she has planted thru out her yard

How you value life. How I value it is, if you can put your shoes on each morning, you’re ahead of the game.

I come from an era of people being crushed by polio, either killing them or dismantling their ability to walk, talk, work, because the virus attacked their nervous system and they weren’t able to function.

Some when people say to me, “How are you doing today?” And I say, “I can put my shoes on today.”

I look at it very basically, and I can function.

I really enjoy the sense of mystery.

Perhaps it’s the urge to look behind the veil – you know, to understand the essence of what we perceive with our senses – to use the sixth sense, intuition.

I really enjoy looking at tree bark - the whorls and swirls of bark as it moves up the trunk of the tree. It overlaps like house shingles. And it eddies around limbs and around the stumps of fallen limbs. You see the tree holes, and the flow of the bark around them.

The patterns are mesmerizing, like watching water that is stopped.

It really seems like something is written on the tree, by the tree, over and over again.

And when a vine climbs the tree, it is even more beautiful, especially in the autumn when the vine turns red.

Just as an ace of spade trumps the king of spades, knowing trumps knowledge.

An intelligent person does not care much about information and knowledge. An intelligent person cares much more for the capacity to know.

His or her interest is in knowing, not just knowledge. Knowing gives you understanding, where knowledge gives one a feeling of understanding, without giving you real understanding.

We have a huge Chinese rug in the living room, 10 feet by 15 feet, 1 inch thick.

It is truly gorgeous. The colors and design are out of this world.

Sky-blue borders, decorated with flowers, all against a crème background. And it feels wonderful under your bare feet.

Who made this carpet I so enjoy? I feel I know him, or her, or them. I appreciate the sheer scale of its beauty and its masterful craftmanship.

Was the design handed down generation to generation, perhaps on rice paper? Or was it kept “in-mind” and shown only when needed?