I love those times when something wonderful drops into my consciousness as I’m falling asleep, or just waking up, or mindlessly driving a well-worn route. These drops capture what my heart is blooming into – a phrase about identity, a whisper about life, a poetic and comforting solution to a trying time – and then they are gone. Rather than mourning my inability to remember, there is delight in knowing the experience transpired, that truth hit my spirit and became part of me so I am no more aware of its effect than to smile more quickly henceforth, or to care a little less about things beyond my control. There is something sweet about learning without mental effort. It’s how we learn we’re loved – not with the intellect, but with all the rest of our being.