We sat in the common room with several others. “I think the truest, deepest
love is unbounded,” a fellow Zen student said. He was a former
post-doctoral mathematician who sat every so often at the Center.
“If infinity existed, it wouldn't come close to love.” He cradled the
cup of green tea in his palms, then took a sip. Rocked back on his zafu,
I smiled. “I know when you're thinking about Sara.”
Such depths had touched me in college and later after I got married, and still later
when, with my daughter, sunshine flooded into my universe. There is still an
unfathomable mystery to the endless aspects of love. I think that anything
concrete we can say about it is self-contradictory.