We gather up a few thin blades of meadow grass and call them the meadow, when the meadow itself rolls off to horizons that escape our view.

I suppose that one of my greatest problem lays in the fact that I have assumed a blessing to be something that is mine for the taking, verses being something that by sheer exposure to it takes me.

I think that my fear of being sacrificial is based on the assumption that I will give away far more than I could ever hope to get back. And while that assumption is blatantly wrong, maybe the greatest thing that I’m doing wrong is that I’m walking around with an assumption.

Vigilance of the wisest kind is to incessantly remain open to the reality that what I ‘see’ is but a single thread and solitary shard of what ‘is’, for to assume otherwise is to surrender the wisdom of vigilance to the decay of ignorance.

Yet, he had also learned that when we presume to know something, we likely only know the barest essence of that thing even though we presume the fullest understanding.

I suppose that the greatest blindness is to assume the absence of blindness.

In a very tragic kind of way, sometimes things have to be gone before I fully realize that they were ever there.

To assume that I can even begin to chart a ‘straight’ path is probably the best way I can take myself ‘straight’ to the very place I don’t want to go.

As the old saying goes, “There’s more than one way to skin a cat.” The problem is that too often we assume that we’ve got the right cat, and then we assume that the only solution is to skin it. And once everything mercifully comes to a close, assuming that we’ve made a terrible mess of things is the only assumption that’s not an assumption.