“Why––it is all inside––it is all in our thought! Padre, when Hernando plays on that old pipe of his, where is the music? Is it in the pipe? Or is it in our thoughts?”
“But, chiquita, we don’t seem to have it in our thought until we seem to see him playing on the pipe, do we?”
“No, we don’t,” she replied. “And do you know why? It is just because the human mind believes that everything, even music, must come from matter––must have a––”
“Must have a material origin? Is that what you mean?”
“Yes. And men even believe that life itself has a material origin; and so they have wasted centuries trying to find it in the body. They don’t seem to want to know that God is life.”
“Then, chiquita, you do not believe that matter is real?”
“There is no matter outside of us, or around us, Padre,” she said in reply. “The human mind looks at its thoughts and seems to see them out around it as things made of matter. But, after all, it only sees its thoughts.”
“Then I suppose that the externalization of our thought in our consciousness constitutes what we call space, does it not?”
“It must, Padre,” she answered.
He studied a moment. Then: