When you enter the stillness of the eternal now by letting go of the fictional me, you see that reality, enlightenment, or God is like a flame. It’s alive, ever moving, and ever dancing–the flame is always here. But the flame is impermanent. There is nothing about a flame that is permanent, static, or stable. If it were, it would be dead. Reality is alive, ever on the move, like a flame that leaps up from the log into the air.
Every time I arrange fresh flowers, I choose the blossoms from my garden and the vase from my shelf so that color and form complement each other. Four days later, I see the vermilion rose is developing a silver sheen that would be enhanced in pewter. I choose a new vase; I honor the aging; I create a new form. Just as order and beauty are crucial to a floral arrangement, so order and beauty are necessary for the well-being of my soul. They mirror each other.