Soon the child’s clear eye is clouded over by ideas and opinions, preconceptions, and abstractions. Simple free being becomes encrusted with the burdensome armor of the ego. Not until years later does an instinct come that a vital sense of mystery has been withdrawn. The sun glints through the pines and the heart is pierced in a moment of beauty and strange pain, like a memory of paradise. After that day, we become seekers.
The author of those words died last weekend. His writings, and his perspective on the world, have helped change my life in a way that’s still not clear to me, but what is understood is that fact that we must never give up seeking, and if we never find that which we think we are looking for, it doesn’t really matter. What’s important is what is disovered along the way, while you were looking for what you thought matters most.