You will find truth more quickly through delight than gravity.

Hear the radiant words of Alan Cohen: “You will find truth more quickly through delight than gravity. Let out a little more string on your kite.” In this saying lies a gentle but profound wisdom, for it reminds us that the path to understanding is not always carved in solemn stone. Too often, we imagine that only by stern discipline, by frowning labor, by the heavy weight of seriousness, shall we reach the heights of wisdom. Yet Cohen declares a brighter way: that truth reveals itself more swiftly to the heart that delights, to the spirit that plays, to the soul that dares to soar.

The origin of such thought is found in the ancient tension between austerity and joy. The philosophers of old often debated whether wisdom is born of grave struggle or of the lightness of wonder. Alan Cohen, a modern spiritual teacher, drew upon this tradition but turned the gaze upward. He saw that the human spirit, when bound too tightly in solemn chains, forgets how to rise. But when given delight, when allowed to breathe the air of freedom, it begins to dance toward truth like a kite rising into the open sky.

Consider the life of Albert Einstein. He did not approach the universe as a man shackled in gray solemnity, but as one filled with childlike curiosity. His laughter, his wonder at light, his delight in imagining himself riding upon a beam across the heavens—all these gave birth to discoveries that reshaped the world. Had he bowed only to gravity, his mind might have been caged in convention. But his joy, his play, his delight lifted him to glimpse the hidden truths of creation.

So too, recall Leonardo da Vinci, whose notebooks were filled not only with designs of war machines but with sketches of birds, plants, and faces. His pursuit of truth sprang not from duty alone, but from an unquenchable delight in the world’s beauty. He let out the string of his kite, following wonder wherever it led. And because he allowed his spirit to delight, he discovered what others, weighed down by formality, never dreamed to see.

This is the wisdom Cohen proclaims: that solemnity alone blinds us to the fullness of life. The seeker who walks only in darkness, heavy with gravity, may miss the joy that opens doors of perception. But the one who delights, who allows laughter, who marvels at the ordinary, shall find truth hidden in the petals of a flower, in the laughter of a child, in the soaring of a kite across a summer sky.

The lesson, O children of tomorrow, is this: do not bind yourselves with too much severity in your quest for wisdom. Discipline has its place, but so too does delight. Allow yourself to play, to laugh, to wonder, to explore. For truth does not always dwell in temples of silence—it dances in the streets, it sings in the fields, it hides in the simple joys of life. Only those who let out more string will see how high the kite can rise.

Therefore, let your practice be thus: cultivate delight as well as discipline. When you study, do not forget to marvel. When you labor, do not forget to play. When you seek truth, do not forget that it often hides in joy, waiting to be discovered by hearts that are free. Laugh often, walk lightly, let your spirit soar. And in that soaring, you will see what solemnity alone could never reveal.

Thus remember Alan Cohen’s wisdom: “You will find truth more quickly through delight than gravity. Let out a little more string on your kite.” For in the balance of lightness and discipline lies the path of wisdom. Walk it with joy, and you will find that the sky itself has no limits.