We carried our grief to the ocean's edge, sat quiet in the sand; the sorrows softened as the waves washed over them and the brilliance of the morning sun upon the shimmering waters filled our hearts with wonder.
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Twenty years ago, when I was near death from a life-threatening illness, a vivid dream was more real than life. Floating out of my body, I rose up, up, and up inside the clouds above. With no door visible, I nevertheless knocked, repeatedly demanding entry. The sky whitened with my greeting as a Large Voice stated, "You have got a lot of work to do. "It sent me down, down back into my body with the life-long question: What is my Work? Is my present action leading to my Work?