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.
I was looking at the peach tree in blossom, and then I suddenly felt that it was not just the tree that was beautiful, but LIVING BEAUTY seemed to be coming through it, and it was in touch with me. It was an intensely personal contact, and it was like some BEING was communicating with me in a wordless way. It was like meeting some very special person who had an extraordinary effect on me. This eternity, I felt, was seeking itself through the activity of innumerable forms of life -- through nature, as with a flower or spider weaving a web, or through a human being creating a work of art, so that the same life would express itself through me... I was flooded by an overwhelming sense of harmony. In a flash countless aspects of beauty were revealed to me which I had never realized before.