His solution: persistence. It is the correct prescription.
But persistence in what? This is my question. Should I dedicate my energies to writing a book? Would anyone listen?
I have made some efforts to spread my ideas, but they have largely fallen on deaf ears. Very few people, it seems, take anything seriously any more, and those who do generally find themselves occupying what I would argue are congenial illusions by the time they might even begin to think about reading anything I might write.
In the end, my responsibility, first and foremost, is my own spiritual development. I must dedicate myself to becoming whole. My relationship, first and foremost, is with God, with the Deeper Order.
Thus I have shelved, rightly or wrongly, any notion of writing beyond what is already on the internet, and readily available to anyone who finds their way there.
My life has largely lacked positive energy. I grew up without much love, and I am not very good at feeling it. I have a hard time loving myself, and a hard time loving others, the way I would like to. Even though I have much to offer intellectually, what seems most needed, for me, right now, is to be able to bring the scent of a rose to every room I enter, and to remember that when I disappear I will not be gone at all.
There is a need for Mind, for intelligence, for the ability to see and describe deep orders. But there is something much larger, and much more useful. For want of a better word, call it the Way.