A Zen master asked his student, "What is the taste of water?"

The student replied, "Master, water has no taste."

The master responded, "You only think that because it has been in your mouth since you were born."

One of the puzzles of our lives is our tendency to take for granted or even overlook things that are staring us in the face. In psychological terms, we are subjected to a stimulus so often that eventually there is little or no response. We see it in animals. We can call to them, and they will turn their heads; but if we keep calling to them without doing anything such as playing with them or giving them food, sooner or later they will cease to respond at all, and our calling to them will become just another insignificant phenomenon of their world.

Some people suggest that this is what happens to us with the issue of God. We're surrounded by God, we "swim in God," we are God. A child sees the wonder of its surroundings, and from time to time poets have said that this is because it is born with the capacity to see God in those surroundings. But familiarity breeds contempt, and after a while our own plans and ambitions for ourselves, our feelings of guilt for what we have done, mean that we can't see those surroundings -- and what underpins them -- any more. Retrieving that ability may be part of what Step 11 is all about.

A turtle once told a fish about how it had clambered out of the water and walked along the beach. "What's this water you're talking about?" asked the fish. The turtle pointed all around with his flipper, but the fish looked everywhere and could see no water ....