A few words…

It is odd to wake up to the sound of rain at the end of November.  It is odd at any time of the year to wake up to rain, the gloom of unvaried cloud cover, and the persistent annoyance of an early alarm and think, ‘At last!  A beautiful, wonderful, WARM day.’  But so I did, just this morning.  I do not mind the rain, and I hate the cold that glares down at us despite the sun when the sky clears.  It makes me feel a certain kind of joy, a certain loose, floating satisfaction that has nothing to do with the absence of need or desire.  I want many things and still need a few, and yet I am joyful, thankful, truly alive.  I cannot describe it as I want – I must rely on the words of others:

“Sometimes as I am falling asleep in a dark, quiet room I have for a moment a great and treasurable illusion of the past….We are inside, the two of us, in shelter, at rest, at the center of all things.  Outside, as always, lies the great darkness, the cold, death’s solitude.  In such fortunate moments as I fall asleep I know beyond doubt what the real center of my own life is, that time which is past and lost and yet is permanent, the enduring moment, the heart of warmth.  I am not trying to say I was happy….I certainly wasn’t happy.  Happiness has to do reason, and only reason earns it.  What i was given was the thing you can’t earn, and can’t keep, and often don’t even recognize at the time; I mean joy.”

– Ursula K Le Guin, The Left Hand of Darkness


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