Making myths of our lives

My apologies, dear Readers. The daunting Life Stuff that I've been facing lately is suddenly demanding all of my attention. In the meantime, here are some bluebells for you, which are turning our little woodland into fairyland right now....

And this, from May Sarton's Journal of Solitude, which I underlined just this morning:

"I have said elsewhere that we have to make myths of our lives, the point being that if we do, then every grief or inexplicable seizure by weather, woe, or work can -- if we discipline ourselves and think hard enough -- be turned into account, be made to yield further insight into what it is to be alive, to be a human being, what the hazards are of a fairly usual, everyday kind. We go up to Heaven and down to Hell a dozen times a day -- at least I do. And the discipline of work provides an exercise bar, so that the wild, irrational motions of the soul become formal and creative."