Unclench. Soft focus. Breathe out. Slow pace.

The journey is to last from dawn to dusk; let no single step overtire me.

This dull chore, let me see a universe in each footfall.

O Lord, is this slow path discipline or unwound ecstasy?

Unclench. Breathe out.

(Letter #2,241)

What matter whether you are at my left, or my right?

In one case, you lead and I am well able to carry and work, with great dexterity.

In the other, when you grasp me by my right hand and lead, I am diminished in what I can do, able only to carry a light burden. I cannot tie a rope with my left hand.

Lord, you lead me and make me a child, that I may rely more and more upon you. Such trust you build, let me so trust.

(Letter #2,240)

A dark and gloomy dawn I have greeted for too many days.

A sack of woe I have dragged for too long.

What if I already have the ease for which I pine?

I plod along, in rags and carrying a bucket. Light the lamps, open my eyes to the heaps of treasure through which I have shuffled day upon day.

Peace and joy were on offer all along, Lord. Today, let me notice the ways in which all is well.

(Letter #2,239)

There is a world underneath the world. I see it dimly when I least expect.

Walking in the quiet dawn, the deer coalesce into a family, and I see how you have ordered the world. Bird calls become greetings while I walk by a neighbor and wave.

I am walking through a lesson book. Am I to remain student, or teach my fellows?

(Letter #2,238)