Your life is a vast plain. And all travel with you on the same newly-discovered plain. And all who travel are pioneers, those who traveled before you and those who come after. You are a pioneer in your own life and you find your own trail over the vast plain. It is unmapped. Sometimes it has seemed to you that you were in a jungle, chopping away at the brush with your machete. And sometimes you have thought you were riding on a pallet carried by the winds. And sometimes you thought you were in a chariot race. And sometimes you haven't thought much about it at all.

But you ride on a vast plain, and yet you are chariotless, unless you call your body your chariot. The point is that you journey along on this even plane that is so vast. Your eye cannot see the farthest dimensions, but sometimes you sense beyond what you see. Sometimes you sense the playing field of life as dimensionless. Sometimes you do. Sometimes you sense your eternalness and the infiniteness of your life and what it is played on. And sometimes you have to pause.

Isn't it amazing how thoughts of your own mortality can lead you to a glimpse of foreverness? The plain we speak of is the invisible canvas of your life. You walk on it, and you keep going, step by step, and yet the horizon ahead of you, faintly glimpsed, is also faintly remembered because in the true dimensionless of this world, the horizon is also behind you, on all sides of you, and right where you are. The plain you travel is not so vast as you thought and yet it is dimensionless and has no end to it. It is very close and very far all at once.

Perhaps you seem to ride on an escalator. Or in a balloon. Perhaps you are pulled along. Perhaps you are magnetized and all moves with you.

In any case, do not trudge. It is not such an effort to lift your foot. Skip along. Make merriment along the way. Step lightly. Step lively. You are walking on eternity. The field of life is the field of eternity, and you are a player on it. When you are on the field, what can you do but play?

This moment is eternal, at the same time as this moment never was, and cannot be timed. This moment is in the stream of life, and as with a mountain stream, who can nab any gleaming part of it? It cannot be stopped, and it cannot be caught. Yet you are caught in movement even as all is still and ever vital.

You are perplexed by life. It unfolds, but never was folded. It changes, but is changeless. It appears to move yet is immovable. The ocean has a tide, and yet the depths are still. You seem to age, and yet you are ageless. You see, and you don't see. The physicality of life overwhelms you. You are part of the universe, and yet you are all of it. Life is too much for you to fathom, yet it is not fathomless. It is beyond your understanding, and yet well within your grasp. Your life is right before you, and you are living it.

In any case, at this momentless moment, you know you are alive and that you are in the midst of your journey across the plain, pioneers all, with every step, discovering the minutia and the grandness. How high is the sky before you? Reachable right before you.