| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Flower Fables by Louisa May Alcott: drooping flowers grew beside urns of healing herbs, from whose fresh
leaves came a faint, sweet perfume.
Eva wondered, but silently followed her guide, little Rose-Leaf,
who with tender words passed among the delicate blossoms,
pouring dew on their feeble roots, cheering them with her loving words
and happy smile.
Then she went to the insects; first to a little fly who lay in a
flower-leaf cradle.
"Do you suffer much, dear Gauzy-Wing?" asked the Fairy. "I will
bind up your poor little leg, and Zephyr shall rock you to sleep."
So she folded the cool leaves tenderly about the poor fly, bathed his
Flower Fables |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Pagan and Christian Creeds by Edward Carpenter: taking place at a time when, from many obvious signs, the
self-conscious, grasping, commercial conception of life is
preparing to go on the wane, and the sense of solidarity to
re-establish itself, there is really good hope that our
return-journey may prove in some degree successful.
Man progresses generally, not both legs at once like a
sparrow, but by putting one leg forward first, and then
the other. There was this advantage in the Christian
taboo of sex that by discouraging the physical and sensual
side of love it did for the time being allow the spiritual
side to come forward. But, as I have just now indicated,
Pagan and Christian Creeds |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Travels with a Donkey in the Cevenne by Robert Louis Stevenson: and, breaking up the rest of the bread for Modestine, strolled
about to see in what part of the world I had awakened. Ulysses,
left on Ithaca, and with a mind unsettled by the goddess, was not
more pleasantly astray. I have been after an adventure all my
life, a pure dispassionate adventure, such as befell early and
heroic voyagers; and thus to be found by morning in a random
woodside nook in Gevaudan - not knowing north from south, as
strange to my surroundings as the first man upon the earth, an
inland castaway - was to find a fraction of my day-dreams realised.
I was on the skirts of a little wood of birch, sprinkled with a few
beeches; behind, it adjoined another wood of fir; and in front, it
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