There’s an older idea, from a philosopher named Plotinus, writing around the third century. He taught that the soul is already woven into something larger — call it source, the One, the ground of things. The spiritual life, in his understanding, isn’t about reaching for that belonging. It’s about returning to it. The work is mostly a kind of letting go. Quieting what’s noisy. Setting down what isn’t yours. Allowing what’s already true to become visible again, the way a pond clears once you stop stirring it. The fish were always there. The light was always there. You only had to stop disturbing the surface. You go inward, and the destination finds you. That tradition is slow. It’s quiet.