In Celebration of the Human Heart

Preamble to the book:

There are two kinds of worlds. One, shot through and through with magic, is the real world, known only to very few. The other, mistakenly called real, is the ordinary world inhabited by the great mass of humankind.

Perhaps it is closer to the truth to say that there is only one world, which appears to be two worlds to two different kinds of seeing.

The real, or magic, world sustains, enlivens, and shines through the ordinary one, though most adult eyes are too dull to notice it. So people carry on the gray existence of prisoners in a narrow scene wholly inconsistent with the greatness and dignity of human nature. But there are two moments in even the most cramped and darkened life when the magic world makes its presence felt in a sunburst loosed from its realm to clothe ordinariness in glory, as when one perceives beauty poignantly, has an exciting idea, experiences Nature’s grandeur, is touched by love, or feels one’s very marrow tickled by the feather of the wand of wit. Then life lifts to a human level.

It is a question whether, in the long run, the lot of man-the-prisoner is made happier or sadder by these all too brief chance escapes into a fullness which he sense to be the birthright he has somehow lost. But it need not be a matter of chance or considered an escape. The magic of reality is right at hand, ripe for the picking. This book is an attempt to depict the attainable state of soul to which the Tree of Life lets down its fruits.