The purpose of life is to be yourself: bravely, messily, imperfectly. It is to embrace every meanness and smallness, every moment of feeling your life to be without meaning or purpose. It is to gaze all unflinching into the void of not knowing and to know that it’s okay to not know. All the contradictions and indecision, all the wrong choices and the ones that felt right, once upon a time. The greatest adventure is not to do big things because they are good, but to do small things because they are real. Only by taking hold of the giddy improbability of your strange and quirky existence, with no need of more, can you finally feel the rise and fall of your chest in all its miraculous power.
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Introduction
"Only that day dawns to which we are awake," wrote Thoreau. This blog, in words and pictures, is my attempt to be awake: to be alive to the mystery of life. It is an exercise in gratitude and wonder, and an open invitation to beauty. Archives
May 2019
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