My favorite image of the Way, seen in the east, displayed on ancient rocks on the Isle, wrapped around colorful cloths in the southern hemisphere and even in the far frozen north is the knot that never ends. 

It is the path as I stand, the here and the now.  It is the past, the “then”.  It is tomorrow, forever unattainable.  It reminds me that success is irrelevant, failure is a false idea, and the destination keeps sliding past the infinite horizon.

I claim my tiny space on this earth.  I indulge in the soft green, caress the firm trees–kin to my soul.  From the stapler to my heart, through my fingers to the millions of parts and people who fashioned these keys.  Across the universe to that first glimmer of light from the Prime Creator to this stuffy office on the second floor of the last building in a small park at the end of the continent on a mid-sized planet of a modest galaxy in the corner of a fringe universe.

There is a continuum of spirit that wraps me and firmly knots me in Her soft always embracing green  scarf.