In praise of practicing the inevitable through the improbable, the mundane moments when we are “as delicate as we can be in this life.”
Every act of living is an act of learning to die, of apprenticing ourselves to the loss of this moment, of this collarbone being touched, of this hand doing the touching. If we are thoughtful and tender enough with ourselves, the terror of the loss cusps into transcendence, the grief into gratitude, into a nonspecific gladness enveloping everything that ever wa...
Published on July 23, 2020 20:23