IIn the summer, as very young girls, my friend Julie and I would spend our days at China Cove. It was named China Cove because on the beach there was a lovely rose-colored Chinese style house. The China House is gone now. Demolished. Julie’s mother would pack us a picnic lunch and she always included those big pink marshmallowy cookies for us. Sweet heavenly joy. This beach was on the bay, no big waves to worry about. It was a secret spot, secluded, a perfect beach for little kids and picnics. We would play in the water for hours, floating on our rafts, laughing, giggling, making up games, singing and talking. The day was full of joy doing nothing, accomplishing nothing, getting no where, drifting in the sunshine, splashing in the cool salty water. Well, much to my surprise these years later that little girl of those days has returned to me. She is here again. Now filled with an understanding, a knowing, she leads the way. And I am free, drifting, playing, unconcerned, accomplishing nothing, getting nowhere – and singing my heart’s unbridled joy. The holy Child, the one who sits so close to God, to touch the Absolute.Free and fearless this Child-I-am, the part of ourself that interfaces directly with our own Eternity. The Child lives outside the domain of the old man, outside the mistaken sense locked down under the spell of erroneous human beliefs. The Child is wide open, in love, defenseless, vulnerable, and unharmed by time and tangibility – the Child Lives, flowing unrestricted, fearless and free. –