I was beginning to realize that you must
come slowly to a place; wait a little before
feverishly resorting to guidebooks...Place
has a mighty tongue of its own.
~ from ON PILGRIMAGE by J. Lash
When from our better selves we have too long
Been parted by the hurrying world, and droop,
Sick of its business, of its pleasures tired,
How gracious, how benign, is Solitude...
There is really nothing you must be.
And there is nothing you must do.
There is really nothing you must have.
And there is nothing you must know.
There is really nothing you must become.
However. It helps to understand that the fire burns,
and when it rains, the earth gets wet...