I love snow days.
She is absolutely a woman I would love to meet– as her mind is a sacred canvas that I would admire in discovering.
“He saw an evening when he sat slumped across his desk in the office. It was late and his staff had left; so he could lie there alone, unwitnessed. He was tired. It was as if he had run a race against his own body, and all the exhaustion of years, which he had refused to acknowledge, had caught him at once and flattened him against the desk top. He felt nothing, except the desire not to move. He did not have the strength to feel–not even to suffer. He had burned everything there was to burn within him; he had scattered so many sparks to start so many things–and he wondered whether someone could give him now the spark he needed, now when he felt unable ever to rise again. He asked himself who had started him and kept him going. Then he raised his head. Slowly, with the greatest effort of his life, he made his body rise until he was able to sit upright with only one hand pressed to the desk and a trembling arm to support him. He never asked that question again.”
It’s this sort of reading that inspires me. I want to be that person who has and does all things with dignity and grace. I want the fires to roar beneath me, pushing me harder and harder, running forward, upright, tackling every challenge before me.
But this challenge before me is mine. It is no one else’s but my own. These choices are mine, and the decisions are ones that answer to no one but myself.
Leave a Reply
Recent Comments