To imagine and create, we must first let go of the outer world, refocus within, and become aware. Then, once settled, we may throw light upon the canvas of the mind. Many things in the world are created in this way: gardens, bridges, boats and steeples. Even the humble teacup was once held privately in someone’s mind before it was molded from clay, glazed, and fired in a kiln.
Most everything manmade begins with an idea of form and function and is then carefully adjusted in the mind before becoming solid in the world. I imagine a word, and then I say the word; I imagine a house, and then I build that house. But what of a flower, a sparrow, or the sun? How did they come into being?
A canvas of elegance, symmetry, and delicate interdependence surrounds us on this planet, and we live and work, play and sleep enfolded in its beauty. A beautiful symphony does not happen by accident, nor does a painting, a book, or a poem; they are reflections of the inner life of the composer, the painter, and the poet. Let us then ask, might the act of creation in the natural world follow the same process as our own? If so, what or who created the great masterpiece of life that sustains us, even in this very moment?
Surely, a tree cannot exist without a designer any more than can a building: both are built with care and precision, one with cells and the other with bricks. Why should we assume that our process is special and separate from the workings of the rest of creation? If we see this progression working in us and we are an intelligent part of life, then why should we not assume that everything else in the universe has been brought into being in a similar way, by the will of a mind?
If so, we must recognize that the world is held steady, and that some great, creative, purposeful being must accomplish this work, some passionate presence that claims the evolution of nature’s artistry as its own. Who or what is this luminous, creative Mind that holds the beauty of this entire world in its awareness, the Intellect that creates the brilliance of a simple wildflower or fosters the soft roll of a billowing cloud?
But let us now ask: Were we held in a Mind before we came into being? Were we first created in God’s imagination? Is it too bold to suggest that the power in us to create is in some small way similar to the power God uses to create? Did the Creator create creators? If so, let us wonder if we are what and whom we were first intended to be. How far have we removed ourselves from the ideal that is held as a point in the heart of the great Mind?
Perhaps the answer is held in the glowing light of conscience.

How can a person reconnect with the light in their soul when his or her heart is overcome with the madness and noise of the world? How does a person free themselves from the uncertainties of life and root out the weeds that crowd and contaminate their inner path?

The conflicts, the negativity, the brutish behavior and the many small sorrows we witness every day, every hour, disrupt and warp the focus of the seeker, but perhaps therein lies the work.

It is difficult, I know, to be at peace in this rocky, tarnished, upturned world where reckless claims and incessant outrages bellow out from the screens of the world.

But peace is at hand. Peace is always at hand. There is a way to reclaim what is lost. A calm heart is always within reach, if it is sought in earnest.

Think on this:

Each leaf and stone, each ocean and star, each soul and mind has its place in this wondrous universe.

The lion lives on the savanna. The chimp explores the heights of the tree, while the leaf flutters on its branch. The rose sways in the breeze, as does the poppy, the sunflower, and fields of wheat. A fish breathes within the ocean wave, a tide created by the pull of the moon. The flag tussles in the wind, while the bird lifts and dances upon its current. Our dear planet sweeps through its orbit, beckoned by the intimate force of our sun. So, too, do the stars, ad infinitum, sail along their own special circuit through the cosmos.

But people are different. You and I are different. We can choose to rest our minds upon any plane we wish. Each person, whether he or she lives in a village, a town, in a city, in a large family or lives quite alone, each is far more than they appear on the outside. On the inside, each person, that is, you and I, and everyone we have ever known, everyone who has ever existed, being simple or complex, innocent or blemished in numerous ways, can exist in full awareness, on other levels, on higher planes. There is not a man or woman alive that has not the breath of love to sustain him or her through their brief trip to Earth, and each of us may know that love as a real and permanent force. You and I are of *Spirit*. Though our bodies die, we are each immortal, and we may realize this truth while we struggle through the noise, through the chaos and commotion that seeks to upturn us.

To experience the ground of our true being requires work; it requires trust, virtue, and ambition, but the experience can be had within the space of a single breath. It can mine, just as it can be yours. It rests within each moment, even this moment. With only a slight turn of the mind, a person may lift into the land of love, into the plane of purity, onto a level of limitless belonging. Allow the planes to merge and for reality to expand. So begins the prayer:

I exist in spirit, and spirit exists in me.

I exist in love, and love resides in me.  

I exist in light, and light shines through me.

I exist in truth, and truth rests in me.

I exist in God, and God exists in me.

Let it be so.

Words have power, and yet a word read in a strange language is meaningless; in of itself, it has no significance. It is little more than an odd collection of syllables—tones in tempo. Though the cadence of an unfamiliar word can be turned and tuned on the mind's tongue, it has form but no weight; it lacks meaning in the reader's mental and emotional world. But as soon as the sound is clothed with substance, a context, an emotion, no matter how slight or simple or tangential the effort to do so, the word clarifies and comes to life. It begins to breathe, born eternal into the inner life of the person thinking.

Calm. Integrity. Presence. Trust.

Without a point of reference, without, say, a physical gesture or a raised voice, nouns, verbs, adjectives, and adverbs exist in a void, but when a meaning is given to a name or expression, it populates the imagination with all manner of colors, flavors and wide associations. Suddenly the word perches in a person's reality. No matter how subjective or fanciful, it blossoms and becomes useful, and a new point of reference is born.

Compassion. Hope. Tolerance. Beauty.

But often, the true spirit of a word can remain elusive. *God* is one such word. *Love* is another. A seeker must ask what these words truly mean. We can define an apple or a tree by pointing to it. We can compare it to something nearby as a point of reference, but the sublime and heavenly cannot be grasped in absolute terms the way a concrete object can.

Gratitude. Reverence. Harmony. Eternity.

If we look carefully at the contour of a word, we find it consists of much more than a dry, definition. Below the surface, a word carries emotion, motivation, and oftentimes, far-reaching associations. Each name is embedded with feeling and memory.

Respect. Happiness . Serenity. Patience.

Each word possesses an essence all its own, a quality that distinguishes it from any other concept, a feeling, a context in which the reader can perceive and relate to it meaningfully in his or her own life. Though intangible and often impossible to measure, these feelings give the language its depth, character, and utility.

Temperance. Forgiveness. Altruism. Justice.

Speech, in its many forms, is a creative act, no matter how mundane or commonplace its intent. The body of each word has limbs of sound: definition, image, and a unique feeling. Even a cold number can excite the mind of a mathematician.

Diligence. Authenticity. Confidence. Integrity.

The word *apple* means something different to each person since the experience of eating an apple is unique to the person eating it. The word *child* might evoke happiness in one person and sadness in another. It might conjure a smiling infant or a talkative toddler, or memories of their childhood. And since an experience can't be shared, only related, it is the thinker's task and natural inclination to place a word within the palette of their own experience. The thinker must color the concept with his or her own mark, even when the word describes *another* person's experience. And so, each word suggests a doorway into a complex labyrinth of ideas and images, feelings, motives, and memories that a personality is built upon; perhaps even an ancient memory of God. This is how an individual's thoughts are organized and how an interior life can flourish.

By understanding the nature of language and how it works in the mind and in the heart, that a word is both form and feeling captured in time, we can attempt to understand the true meaning of a word by gathering as many of its threads as we can. This simple reversal can provide a pathway toward Inner Light. First comes the feeling, then grows an understanding.

Love. Purity. Virtue. Goodness.

As we practice the art of virtue, as we practice kindness, authenticity, and humility, we lift not only into a concept of God but into an experience of pure spirit.

Kindness. Patience. Forgiveness. Love.

Instead of starting with knowledge and attempting to approach its reality, it is possible to embodying virtue and lift into the ground of omnipresence, of omniscience, of a union, an eternal state of being. May each of us find our way along the path toward Inner Light, with...

Goodness. Acceptance. Tenderness, and Grace.

I hold before me a single moment in the life of this world and realize that I have no word pure enough to contain its beauty. In faithful devotion to Light’s arc, its perfection being no less for lack of a name, the great ray brushes across horizons, received in the language of waving fields. Darkness is dormant where life scurries and wanes, yet in light is relation and expanse, where meadow and forest yield in gladness to the Star. A flower may say, “I am bright and alive!” but it is the Sun that provides its opportunity to open and gaze, and flourish. Is then beauty an avenue of light, for the perfumed breaths of Earth are expressed within a luminous life? As dusk approaches I ask, what might I learn in this mirror of equivalence? What does this aperture of beauty reveal of the geography in myself? In stillness, I listen carefully and hear the gentle voice of spirit: The inner light of heart and mind precedes as the beauty of my soul. The wondrous thought follows that my entire Universe is Light.