The Roots


heart-gradenFear is the spoiled fruit of the imagination. It weakens us, sickens us, robs us of our vitality, yet we eat of it again and again. We sow seeds of apprehension and hate alongside our garden of dreams, then act astounded by the poisoned hybrids we produce. Like sacred stewards, we must stand watch over our holy ground, mindfully weeding out the roots of despair and ignorance, feeding only what nourishes the spirit.

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