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The Roots of Psychological Division

Instead of scaring up a couple of ducks as I ride down the dirt path to the creek, I surprise a man standing in the middle of the stream. He is foraging in the hip deep water, but I don’t ask why. We say hello and I sit a little way upstream to watch the sunset.
Swallows are wheeling and turning under the blue skies, then diving and skimming a calm section of the stream. Quail cavort in the bushes along the stream, and pheasant squawk in the fields. Though the sun is near the horizon, it still shines with brightness and warmth.
Life is exploding around and within one. There is no division, outside or inside, even as ‘outside and inside.’ At my feet, a mother

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