Quotes About Experience

When you dance, your purpose is not to get to a certain place on the floor. It is to enjoy each step along the way.

really been teaching for thirty years or have you been teaching one year, thirty times?" And you, dear reader, have you really lived 10,000 or more days or have you lived one day, 10,000 or more times? A good question to ask yourself as you work toward more spontaneity in your life.

experience life on the active side of infinity, knowing yourself first and foremost as a spiritual being having a temporary human experience, rather than the other way around.

el satori es una experiencia súbita y se lo describe a menudo como un «vuelco» de la mente

From a clearer perspective, I can now see how my presence on that dock that resulted in my brother's rescue was instrumental in giving me the information and the confidence to become a teacher and practitioner of mind-body healing. That childhood experience helped guide us both, leading us to explore and realize the power we possess to accomplish anything that we place our attention on with love rather than fear as our anchor.

You alone can prepare the ground of your being for the experience of living the mystery.

The thrill bumps that you experience are evidence of our enthusiasm for what you are experiencing in that moment. You think those thrill bumps belong only to you, but they are actually you resonating with the way we feel.

You never forget your first love.

It was beyond embarrassing or humiliating or even mortifying. It was ego-slaying!

Turn down a chance to feel magic for fear of a little dirt?

What did a kiss feel like, anyway? Somehow I knew it wouldn't be like the one I got from Mom and Dad at bedtime. The same species maybe, but a radically different beast, to be sure.

My heart stopped. It just stopped beating. And for the first time in my life, I had that feeling. You know, like the world is moving all around you, all beneath you, all inside you, and you're floating. Floating in midair. And the only thing keeping you from drifting away is the other person's eyes. They're connected to yours by some invisible physical force, and they hold you fast while the rest of the world swirls and twirls and fall completely away.

Today I've been considering how life's journey is not about the distance we move our feet, but how we are moved in our heart.

Rechazaban la oferta de sentir magia por el pequeño miedo de ensuciarse?

wondered at how much emotion can go into any given day, and thought how nice it was to feel this way at the end of it.

The difference between a path and a road is not only the obvious one. A path is little more than a habit that comes with knowledge of a place. It is a sort of ritual of familiarity. As a form, it is a form of contact with a known landscape. It is not destructive. It is the perfect adaptation, through experience and familiarity, of movement to place; it obeys the natural contours; such obstacles as it meets it goes around.

I was a young man. I hardly knew what I knew, let alone what I was going to know.

We had entered an era of limitlessness, or the illusion thereof, and this in itself is a sort of wonder. My grandfather lived a life of limits, both suffered and strictly observed, in a world of limits. I learned much of that world from him and others, and then I changed; I entered the world of labor-saving machines and of limitless cheap fossil fuel. It would take me years of reading, thought, and experience to learn again that in this world limits are not only inescapable but indispensable.

We weren't allowing our hopes to become expectations. Expectations are tempting, pleasant, maybe necessary. They are scary too, once you have had some experience. They are not necessarily and not always a bucket of smoke, but they can be and are even likely to be.

Beauty . . . cannot be interpreted. It is not an empirically verifiable fact; it is not a quantity.

To define knowledge as merely empirical is to limit one's ability to know; it enfeebles one's ability to feel and think.

Waking up from a dream of violence is much the same as waking up from a dream of love. You must go on living your life.

Back there in the beginning, as I see now, my life was all time and almost no memory. Though I knew early of death, it still seemed to be something that happened only to other people, and I stood in an unending river of time that would go on making the same changes and the same returns forever. And now, nearing the end, I see that my life is almost entirely memory and very little time.

I never again would be able to put my life in a box and carry it away.