The altar on which unfulfilled longings wait for the Hand that kindles the fire is also the place where the chemistry of yearnings crystallises to end up, at last, in our bloodstream. Whether it is the longing for more quiet, for provision, for a far country or for a loved one, as long as the track of longing still cleaves its way through our hearts, the earth still holds on to us. Still lets its green make us skip and its blue make us wonder.

The gathering-up of experiences, which time preserves into memories, weaves grief and pain, good and bad, triumph and defeat into the threads of connective tissue that shape our emotional profile. The sum-total of a single life, together with the sub-totals where it overlaps with the interactions of another, fills our lives with high points and low points — the making of a story-line. In every case, a colourful kaleidoscope.

Because we are not spectators of our own story (usually only on others'), it is easy to miss the hidden nuances and the unetched detail. We are blind to the subtle leading — sometimes misleading — of our own "I", which stokes its agenda from beneath, and which is the cause of many unwise choices that over and over cloud our peace and our joy and do injustice to our true self.

Even if you have made the lesser choice 99 times, the 100th time when you do make the better one, it is possible to reverse the dynamic of your own story-line. This happens every time you become a spectator on your own story. All at once it is you who influences the writer, not letting events drag you (the writer) along. In such a moment, everything on your altar combines its shared synergy for the good and for the inspiration of your story. Investments made in offerings then draw interest in the form of an insight that becomes wisdom, and the loose memories are consolidated into a meaningful expression of a unique fragrance — your own being. Then what is precious in your own heart makes you more happy than all the yearnings for something outside you to happen to make your story exciting. Bit by bit your choices become purer and your simplicity uncomplicated. Form loses meaning — and who cares that it wears thin? It is impossible for the content to diminish in value. The contract you then sign with your heart: holy.

Groete Amanda Kreitzer