The garden feels like such a busy place this morning. High nature activity - or maybe it's me. I am tumbling into the ever-present embrace of my inner escort...about to gather some final thoughts for my Reflection's class lecture this evening. Tonight I discuss the sufferings of the human mind - an unlimited topic no doubt, but not because we are so creative about how to suffer - although we are. Rather, I think of "inner space" and "outer space" as the new frontiers. Perhaps they are identical reflections of each other - as vast, as deep, as filled with galaxies and planets and parallel realities, all of which weave their ways into our tiny mortal forms. We suffer not so much because of what we have said or done, but because what we believe to be true is just too small. The real truth - cosmic-sized truth - cannot squeeze in to minds that cling to bite-sized ancient beliefs. They condense the imagination and clip its massive wing span, leaving a person's mind earthbound, and dripping with chemicals. We are such creatures of paradox. We are faith-seeking beings. We must have faith in something - a god, a person, a cause, a drug. Anything. And we love being loyal. Combine the two and we have the beginning of character - but what if faith and loyalty gets invested in ideas that are just foolish? Or old and useless? How then do we get a person to let go of those loyalties? Mental suffering is often about loyalties to an idea or a belief that need to be cut. We are living in remarkable times - and my inner space never ceases to rumble and tumble, as it gathers new perceptions and tosses out the old. What am I loyal to? Truth. What is truth? What truths remain constant, no matter what changes in the world around us? Love alone is not a truth; that love heals is a truth. So I dwell in my garden preparing for my class this evening, and I am filled with a sense of awe that we are vast containers of sacred space yet to be discovered.