Joy of my life is intense. Some days the benediction of it embarrasses me. Joy is filled with solutions, with resolutions, with community, with a curative atmosphere of secret sunlight cast wide over the Earth. The reason of my unrest is also spread wide–so much of crazy pained humanity is without happiness; so many dark and convoluted paths, so many cuts and bleedings, so many betrayals of sunlight. I sleep restlessly and a sense of urgency troubles me, a vast world of needs press on my mind, empty cups I am ill equipped to fill.
And yet there is community, quieter and more powerful than these troubled times. A time and place is allotted each of us, if only we might reach out more skillfully and fearlessly, yielding the best of our life in support of real community. Indeed we must do so, and our lot may not be the task of some grand and far reaching dream, yet it is always there, this threshold where our thoughts begin to weave in communion with all our friends known and unknown, with all those who sense the stark contrast between the world of what is and what must be.