At a conference where I was lecturing, an elderly couple stepped into the crowded elevator. The gentleness of the wife's hand on her husband's shoulder as she guided him in, and the innocent sweetness with which her eyes swept over the ten or so of us fellow travelers, invited me into a holy moment. I felt as if I were in her skin, a proud grandmother casting her net of love over a brood of strangers that somehow were all her children and grandchildren. My heart overflowed with the joy in her heart, and for a moment we were one. When the heart is open, we overcome the illusion that we are separate from one another, and the mystery of divine love wraps us in a cloak of security, unity, wisdom, and joy.
— Joan Borysenko, The Ways of the Mystic