Do you hear the echo of your voice in this?  Resounding the distant walls of earth?  I saw a Mondrian landscape, once,  of a pond in twilight that was like a place where you could project your feelings.  Like a beautiful liquid container for feeling:  A mental landscape to receive them, the Western counterpart of a spirit-holding Ming vase … 

I realized, looking at that picture, that a solitary life has meaning in itself.  My private experiences – your private experiences – as private as they are cause a ripple to glide across that placid surface.  We are parts of a large reality.  Though we be small in the cosmos, it cannot be the same cosmos without each of us.

One holds the whole together, being even just a single atom.


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