At times it seems futile even to try and learn a single discipline — music, art, architecture, medicine, photography — each worth several lifetimes of study.
How much could I possibly grasp in this infinitesimal interval which I have been given — to play, to live, to learn, to give?
Challenges, doubts, distractions and obstacles abound; yet they pale in comparison to the overwhelming good it has been my humble privilege to witness. Helping hands in an apparently selfish world; simple, innocent love in a place where trust is reported absent; abundance and generosity where lack would seem to loom large.
And running through it all like a leitmotif — wonderful, complex music coupled with moments of utter stillness, samadhi. The Master’s grace wafts through this existence, a fragrance of rose and sandalwood, turning each breath into intense prayer.
It’s as though a giant hand obliterates the din, the traffic, the pollution, the crime and the grime in a fraction of a second; I stand renewed, recharged and refreshed — helplessly and hopelessly unable to express my bliss.
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