Truth might be likened to a glittering disco ball, turning and burning, a many-facetted jewel sending forth its rays, each seeking a receptor site on the soul, homing in on our lack to make us whole, our absence to show us its presence.

There is a key to open every lock: teachers, teachings, sentient beings, chance                 encounters, random moments, all bodhisattvas and buddhas in disguise, all                 forever, always and only divine, waiting for a YES, waiting only to be                 loved and received with gratitude, in return for self-forgetting joy.

Whoever or whatever serves to be a key that opens a lock, wonderful. Some keys open more locks than others, blessed be their name. Any pre-judgement only forestalls our conclusion, the ecstatic finish of God, the power of grace, the key that opens the lock, that opens the door to the courtyard, that leads to the chamber, and the open arms, of the Beloved we seek and ARE.