What if the secret architecture of it all was just as Rinpoche claimed: some cosmic unity there beyond our false identification with the individual body? a love beyond imagining that hid in the molecules of a trillion shapes, causing hearts to beat and rivers to run and lovers to find each other? What if the plain old Protestants had it partly right—that you could have direct access to that breath and pulse of love without the official intervention of the church fathers? More than that, what if, throughout history, there had been people—grand spirits in human form—sent to show us the route out
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