
Our whole spiritual transformation
brings us to the point where we realize
that in our own being,
we are enough.
Ram Dass

Our whole spiritual transformation
brings us to the point where we realize
that in our own being,
we are enough.
Ram Dass

Take a moment from time to time to remember that you are alive. I know this sounds a trifle obvious, but it is amazing how little time we take to remark upon this singular and gratifying fact. By the most astounding stroke of luck an infinitesimal portion of all the matter in the universe came together to create you and for the tiniest moment in the great span of eternity you have the incomparable privilege to exist.
Bill Bryson, 10 Simple Rules for Happiness, Graduate College Commencement Ceremony Address

Morning to night I am never done with looking
Looking, I mean not just standing around
but standing around as though with your arms open
Mary Oliver, Where Does the Temple Begin, Where Does It End?

The more things go “our way” for a while, the more we can believe that that is the way it is supposed to be. And when things don’t go “our way,” which sooner or later they will not, we can get angry, disappointed, depressed, devastated……… forgetting that it was never “supposed to be” any one way at all.
Jon Kabat-Zinn, Arriving at your own Door

The Buddhist teachings are fabulous at simply working with what’s happening as your path of awakening, rather than treating your life experiences as some kind of deviation from what is supposed to be happening.
Pema Chodron in conversation with Jack Kornfield, The wondrous Path of Difficulties

Every morning the world is created…
If it is in your nature to be happy..
And if your spirit carries within it
the thorn that is heavier than lead….
there is still somewhere deep within you
a beast shouting that the earth
is exactly what it wanted –
each pond with its blazing lilies is a prayer heard and answered
lavishly, every morning,
whether or not you have ever dared to be happy,
whether or not you have ever dared to pray.
Mary Oliver, Morning Poem