Monday, May 11, 2009


Since I talked about feeling gray, here's Barbara Kingsolver in the title essay of her collection High Tide in Tucson:

In my own worst seasons, I've come back from the colorless world of despair by forcing myself to look hard, for a long time, at a single glorious thing: a flame of a red geranium outside my bedroom window. And then another: my daughter in a yellow dress. And another: the perfect outline of a full, dark sphere behind the crescent moon. Until I learned to be in love with my life again. Like a stroke victim retraining new parts of the brain to grasp lost skills, I have taught myself joy, over and over again.

I'm not there yet, but I'm trying.

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