The first memory I have that might be called spiritual was when I was about 12 or 13. It was late at night, and I was lying on the grass on this big lawn where I was living at the time. It was dark, and I looked up at the sky, and the stars looked so vast. And suddenly this feeling came over me: of love. And it shocked me! It just came out of the blue and took me over. And I was like “What is this? I feel like I love everything.” Nothing brought it on, really, other than the immensity of the stars. It just was there. And then I went to bed, and it faded, and I went on with life. Most people have a story like this, a memory as a child of some kind of connection, or sense of something greater than themselves. We forget about it, but it’s our birthright. In some ways a spiritual path is just a step leading us back to where we were, to our inner home.