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Monday afternoon: Eramosa River


Today is my second anniversary on LiveJournal, and the best thing that could have happened did.

Deep within is a shining glade. Each day when I sit to write my morning pages, I enter it. Lately I've taken my misery there, dashing my pen across the pages and hastily closing the cover.

But yesterday my list of 10 favourite things made me recognize the privilege of own company. In the vast cosmos, consciousness is scarce. This morning I drifted to that space softly, feeling comfort of the page and confidence of my pen.

Billy Joel says this:

In ev'ry heart there is a room,
A sanctuary safe and strong.
To heal the wounds from lovers past,
Until a new one comes along.


Does it really serve nothing more than to prepare us for moving from one infatuation to the next? Is it unfriendly of me to linger there? Not healing the wounds of love, but sculpting art and wisdom.

There is neither right nor wrong. We may each choose our best course. In fact, solitude and society are not mutually exclusive.

So this morning the veil lifted and my spirit came back into the glade. That was my anniversary gift.
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