Like the Buddha, Kate grew up a spiritual being with everything material and not knowing how spiritual she is; and then came the Cry of the Soul; it makes us look under rocks, beyond clouds and puts our legs in motion. It drives us far and wide till we believe that all the geography will never reveal the secret. Then we can only cry, until we give up the outer search. Our surrender is the victory of the inner life, but we must still use outer symbols as artists to bring along our audience. The lapping waves of the Mendocino coast are gentle and powerful, luring and unending, like our journey. Then we must come to grips with the temptation to merge with the infinite ocean, find and obey the inner ocean of greater contentment without waves; the deepest stillest ocean, the resolve to love those who suffer with us beyond time. We must live in both worlds, and we can, and we must encourage others to have the same forbearance. New York, the beginning is always there, and all the middle and the end merges with the memories, and the end becomes an unknown memory for which we long when born anew.