Love Is The Measure Of Our Practice
The reason for this suddenly becomes so obvious that it’s like the stun-gun effect of the Dallas air-conditioning, or the wake-up slap of heat when you walk back outside. A click of insight reminds me that life is a Rube Goldberg machine, a game of Mousetrap. A rolling marble travels through a tilted chute, plops down a stairway, and lands in a pool of water, which splashes up, tipping a match, which strikes and lights a candle....