Yesterday, late in the afternoon, I realized with a shock that I had spent almost the entire day thinking about myself. Whether it was worrying about my health, wondering what I was going to have for lunch, planning my afternoon, or scolding myself for past mistakes, it was all about little, isolated, fearful me. It was an appalling thing to realize, because it made me see clearly, once again, how much I miss in a given day. While I was fretting over my supposed isolation and vulnerability, the grand universe was performing its astonishing tricks, as usual. Stars and planets were rolling right along, winds were free and full of life as usual, and life in all its immensity and grandeur was giving its gifts to all of us – and I was fussing about dozens of harmless and inconsequential matters.
