I was asked by The Intrepid Explorer magazine to write of that which I most remember of my life within this ancient stream of humanity, which memory prevails over all others? But I cannot, I can find no single day, no single memory that is more significant than any other. This is how it is in a fundamental world where everything is seen only as different in quality, but never as better or worse, as more or less important. It is the incidental world of modern humanity which so insists that we compare, name and number everything that lives, and by this process separate ourselves from that which we measure, and ourselves from life itself. And so I have written of my memories as they flow one through the other, through that time to this time, of them and of me as if we are still joined one to the other to all.
And so it continues even now as ongoing living memory . . .
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