Hey, it's Cam. Welcome back to another episode of This Might Be Helpful and I Sincerely Hope That It Is. Now, I've been inhabiting the corporal form that is Cameron for about 25 years now. In that time, I've picked up a few things which I'm going to share with you today. These lessons are in no particular order and they are subject to change at any moment due to my omnipresent lack of certainty which I'm beginning to realize is a strength in something that will hopefully carry with me forever. I'm going to open today's episode with a passage from one of my favorite books, Peace Is Every Step, by Dick Knapp-Hahn. Now this excerpt is from a chapter called, Nourishing Awareness in Each Moment. One cold winter evening, I returned home from a walk in the hills and I found that all the doors and windows in my heritage had blown open. When I had left earlier, I hadn't secured them and a cold wood had blown through the house. Opened up the windows and scattered the papers from my desk all over the room. Immediately I closed the doors and windows, lit a lamp, picked up the papers and arranged them neatly on my desk. Then I started a fire in the fireplace and soon the crackling logs brought warmth back to the room. Sometimes in a crowd we feel tired, cold, lonely. We may wish to withdraw, to be by ourselves and become warm again, as I did when I closed the windows and sat by the fire, protected from the damp cold wind. Our senses are windows to the world and sometimes the wind blows through them and disturbs everything within us. Some of us leave our windows open all the time, allowing the sights and sounds of the world to invade us, penetrate us and expose our sad troubled selves. We feel so cold, lonely and afraid. Do you ever watch yourself watching an awful TV program, unable to turn it off? The raucous noise is explosions of gunfire and are upsetting. But you don't get up and turn it off. Why do you torture yourself in this way? Don't you want to close your windows? Are you frightened of solitude?