I do feel that softness for the vulnerability and the innocence in our world, including my own.

I feel strikingly domestic. We're in our own world with two busses and trucks.

I feel like I'm in my own world: in the world but not a part of it.

When we allow our hands and our minds to wither in our efforts to control our own habits, our own hurts, our own fears, our own dependencies, our own attitudes, our own losses, our own resources, or our own anxieties, we may scramble to grasp at the next "easiest" thing by tirelessly and dangerously grasping at controlling others.

Through our own recovered innocence we discern the innocence of our neighbors.

I call myself, 'The Estee Lauder of the garden world.' I'm my own little conglomerate.