We human beings are in search of meaning, in search of our selves. Very little of what we already are and already have brings us deeper meaning or happiness. We are born for meaning, not pleasure, unless it is pleasure that is steeped in meaning. And we are born as well for suffering, not the suffering that leads to madness but the suffering that leads to joy: the struggle with ourselves and our illusions. We are born to overcome ourselves, and through that overcoming to find an inner condition of great harmony and being. We are born for that—we are not yet that. We are searchers; that is the essence of our present humanness.
From the forest branches fading
birdsong offered
Self-sacrifice to a huge silence.
Dark formlessness settled over all
diversity
Of land and water.As shadows, as particles,
my body
Fused with endless night.I came to rest
At the altar of the stars.Alone, amazed,
I stared
Upwards with hands clasped and said,
"Sun, you have removed
Your rays: show now your loveliest,
kindlier form
That I may see the Person who dwells in
me as in you."