Friday, November 22, 2002

Learn to get in touch with the silence within yourself and know that everything in this life has a purpose. -- Elisabeth Kubler-Ross
(To everything there is a season, and a purpose from heaven)

Make the best use of what is in your power, and take the rest as it happens. -- Epictetus
(Does that mean I can't control it?)

The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves, but wiser people so full of doubts. -- Bertrand Russell
(How wise I must be! For I am a fool for doubt, fanatical for it!)

Another small snow last night. Rain yesterday, a dead grayness, then a change in the evening. Windy, raw, the essence of November. Noisy, rustling leaves in the oaks, leaves that may linger into spring, dead, yet reluctant to relinquish their grasp. Until the new leaves comes. As they will. Yet so far.
Holidays upon us; I feel unready. The great race of the year gains speed as my birthdays pass; how long the years seemed when I was a child; now they blink by as months used to.

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