Real Freedom Lies In Wildness, Not In

Individuals Are Custodians Of The Life Stream -- Temporal Manifestations Of Far Greater Being, Forming From And Returning To Their Essence Like So Many Dreams.

To A Person In Love, The Value Of The Individual Is Intuitively Known. Love Needs No Logic For Its Mission.

Then What Am I - The Body Substance Which I Can See With My Eyes And Feel With My Hands? Or Am I This Realization, This Greater Understanding Which Dwells Within It, Yet Expands Through The Universe Outside; A Part Of All Existence, Powerless But Without Need For Power; Immersed In Solitude, Yet In Contact With All Creation? There Are Moments When The Two Appear Inseparable, And Others When They Could Be Cut Apart By The Merest Flash Of Light.

While My Hand Is On The Stick, My Feet On The Rudder, And My Eyes On The Compass, This Consciousness, Like A Winged Messenger, Goes Out To Visit The Waves Below, Testing The Warmth Of Water, The Speed Of Wind, The Thickness Of Intervening Clouds. It Goes North To The Glacial Coasts Of Greenland, Over The Horizon To The Edge Of Dawn, Ahead To Ireland, England, And The Continent Of Europe, Away Through Space To The Moon And Stars, Always Returning, Unwillingly, To The Mortal Duty Of Seeing That The Limbs And Muscles Have Attended Their Routine While It Was Gone.

Man Is A Mixture Of Desires That Extend Beyond His Knowledge And Often Result In Action Conflicting With Rationality.