Night, the beloved. Night, when words fade and things come alive. When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is truly important becomes whole and sound again. When man reassembles his fragmentary self......... and grows with the calm of a tree.
You are standing at exactly the place towards which you have been traveling ~ for seven years or seventy years or seven hundred years.
Your reality is within you, it is not somewhere else. But to understand the point, sometimes it takes years. You knock on many doors before you come to your own door...and then you are puzzled, because this is the house you had left and this is the house you have been searching for ~Osho