"Take your time. I'm in no hurry. Death comes soon enough."
His voice was melodic. The clerk's eyes, looking at a line that would make any box office promoter drool, softened and smiled. "Thank you," she whispered. My impatient sigh transformed and whispered, "Thank you." Perhaps that's why it's called a spiritual practice. I have not arrived. "Take my time. I'm in no hurry. Death comes soon enough. Everything is practice."