"Okay–what are the other kinds of fire?" my father asks as he adds a stick to the fire at his feet… "There’s a fire you must tend to every day. The hardest one to take care of is the one right here" he says, tapping his finger against his chest. "Your own fire, your spirit. We all carry a piece of that sacred fire within us. We have to honor it and care for it. You are the firekeeper."
There were quite a few angles around in the midst of that ruin, hatred, and anger — including a little flower. I had to do my best to go in that direction of beauty. I saw that life is not only cruelty and confusion and ignorance, but life also has many heartfelt people, wonderful people who are trying to do their best. You don't need to see ten thousands flowers in order to see that so much beauty in life is waving to you and saying hello to you. We try to live in beauty, in that light of goodness.