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‘Never underestimate the big importance of small things,’
She had thought, in her nocturnal and suicidal hours, that solitude was the problem. But that was because it hadn’t been true solitude. The lonely mind in the busy city yearns for connection because it thinks human-to-human connection is the point of everything. But amid pure nature (or the ‘tonic of wildness’ as Thoreau called it) solitude took on a different character. It became in itself a kind of connection. A connection between herself and the world. And between her and herself.
To be part of nature was to be part of the will to live.
‘But you will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life,’
Nora wanted to live in a world where no cruelty existed, but the only worlds she had available to her were worlds with humans in them.
She didn’t need a vineyard or a Californian sunset to be happy. She didn’t even need a large house and the perfect family. She just needed potential. And she was nothing if not potential.