<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/c/c4/Teresa.full.2218632.jpg)</div><div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/68/B143ef625b323da0d34435cd3e5e1b52c4f8f117d8dae1a6b1c080fcfcb73d6c.jpg)</div><strong>Sanja</strong>(https://docs.google.com/document/d/1iaJaDaJ8DzyYgO_Xkca8Jc0KFS-Jg0BmdAGbEDhr9-o/edit)<br/><strong>Spark</strong>(https://docs.google.com/document/d/1R3URUvvMd7TgYuyiFGfbNueuoCKhOVbhAoeR_Z106CY/edit)<br/><br/>"We're all climbing out of the bromeliad, aren't we?" Sanja commented after a little while, still working her expert massage. "It's an old book I read.  Flowers that grow on the sides of trees in distant jungles.  Some of the bromeliads will gather water.  Tree frogs lay their eggs in the water.  The eggs hatch, and the tadpoles start their lives there.  For maybe the first third of their lives, that's Creation to them.  The water inside this one little flower.<br/><br/>"Eventually the tadpole grows into a frog, with legs and toes and lungs, and all the things they need to enter the wider world.  Then they climb up out of that flower and look over vast jungles, full of trees, and birds, and monkeys.  Full of monsters and lovers.  All these things they've never dreamed of before.  All Creation opening up to them.  That's us right now, I think.  Coming out of your monastery, or our manse.<br/>It's time to see what's out there."