Often winter places me in closed spaces with tiny holes to the
world, this morning a rectangle filled with braded tracery tree parts and dawn
just on. Winter is the most
contemplative, where we are offered the dark necessary to examine ourselves,
search out the recesses without fear of discovery. Although we are an open book for One we are
often ever absent to self. Winter is
like interlibrary loan where we can ask for the book Lee and have it sent right
away. Good reading for those able and
willing to live.
“The unexamined life is not worth living and the unlived life is
not worth examining.”
Socrates
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