That evening and the next day I began to feel strange during the meditation periods, although, at the time, I don't think I was aware of feeling strange. I'm not good at making analogies, but: Imagine someone has just skipped a flat rock across the surface of a pond. That rock is analogous to the mind. Each time the rock hits the surface of the water it believes it's a rock; it feels the water. When it's in the air it doesn't know anything. The words "rock, " "air, " and "water" cease to exist. It may be hard to see the value in having a mind that's like a flat rock in mid-air that doesn't know anything. But it's easy to understand that it's with words that we discriminate, draw boundaries, keep things frozen in time and space. As a result, we feel deprived and isolated.

While some of these mental habits seem to diminish, others come sharply into focus. Each day my selfishness stands out very clearly. I'm grateful for this because it's the only way I'll learn to unlearn it. I'm grateful for many things, but particularly grateful for the growth that is possible.