Almost everyday I walk along the coast of Scotland with my son. We live in a small town, Burghead, an ancient Pictish site on a small Peninsula in the Moray Firth. Along one side is 6 miles of beach and pine forest and on the other side rocks, and beaches, and cliffs and small towns. We choose our walk depending on weather (the woods for stormy weather), tide, and inclination. Everyday we’re out there for at least 2 hours, often more. My son is exploring the trees, rocks, sand, waves, fauna and flora with various levels of excitement and enthusiasm. You never know what’ll capture his attention. Well, bicycles are a very predictable source of excitement. Now 23 months old he was already identifying Taraxacum, Plantago, Medicago, Urtica, and Gorse (I usually teach him the latin instead of both the French and the English names). He stops to smell flowers or picks a leaf of mint for me to chew on.  He’ll chomp on Taraxacum flowers or immerse himself in the contemplation of a piece of gravel. Studying Integral concepts and their application I’m now observing, bit by bit, development occurring before my eyes. During his naps I take the opportunity to listen to lectures or spiritual talks on my mp3 player or meditate facing that vast expanse of ocean ever-changing and ever-calling, waves and wind and openess coaxing me always out to come out of my self-contractions to this ocean, this nature, this love that is eternally and inevitably unfolding before me, around me, within me.