Having grown weary from the light, we instinctively scramble to engage the darkness. We suspect that great and awesome mysteries still abide there, all within our reach, all waiting to entertain us.
We are so very tired.
Deprived of sleep and short of judgment, we too often rely upon the day’s boredom to muscle us through one more time. Until at last we can drift away, anxious for morning but hopeful, still, that the sun’s caress will make things appear different and steadier and clearer.
And so we are given another season, another chance, to absorb the surgings of the day and to respect the surrenderings of the night.
One more moment to observe, and to learn, and to rise above.
These gifts abound.
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