I hope that the losses of the last several years have made me less blind, less demanding, less entitled. I hope that the pain has stripped from me some of the sense of deserving and imbued in me instead a sense of making peace with what is, a sense of being easily delighted. I hope it takes less and less to bring me joy with each passing month. I hope I am increasingly outraged at injustice in any form, but less offended or horrified when things don’t go my way. Some days I see glimmers of those things—wisdom hard-won, peace hard-earned. I hold tightly to those glimmers like a handful of gold
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