Around you is the roar of the streets, the din of the rushing traffic of civilization bustling past you

on their way to their own myriad objectives. To work, to school, to eat, to pray, to dance, to drink, to find a place to end, or a place to begin. A place to lay down or a place to renew. These are the paths of the human condition, just out of reach of you, as you wrestle with your own decision of where to begin or where to renew. You must make your own way into the solitude of your own mind and perceive yourself. Let the words fall into your consciousness for considerationto be moved by these gospels of creationthe truths of humanity, both sacred and profane. In this solitude, you will fill your cup to overfull and be washed clean. You must shut yourself away from the world of men and sit in silencewhere the wind blows unhindered by tower, tree or edifice and the water is pure and does not promote stagnancy, but tastes of cooled mineral. This intellectual hermetism is necessary to truly shape yourselfto feel your way through your consciousness and define the soul, to ponder the iridescence of the sun on the water, the rolling clouds across the sky and her changing from dawn to twilight, and see her face reveal upon the starlit canopyand, like Zarathustra, make your way back into the human condition. When you read, you drink the libation of many voices. All new and wonderful. Some will praise, others condemn. Some will love, while others spew from petty to great malignancies. But all you must consider. You will be like a rock on the shore, encountering the sea. You will meet many droplets of water. Most you will love, some you will detest. But you must weather them all and drink deep. And this particular rock will grow.