I sat in the hot pools at Breitenbush with various kind souls recently. The stars hid behind a blank, dark sky. It was comforting, the blankness. The moon was new and absent. It rained. I rested. All the doing stopped; I dreamed. I felt an assurance that what I don’t know now, that what I don’t get in this life, that what I work to know but still only glimpse, is waiting for me beyond a benevolent white line of light.