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I'm reading Paul Kingsnorth's "Savage Gods"; I quoted some of it yesterday; here's some more of what he has to say:
"every cell burns with the true light when you realize, in some tremendous moment—some kiss, some death, some echo across a midnight lake—the high, thin, oxygenless truth of being here". And, "(l)ate May. I am in the field, scything the grass and the docks down. I am mowing shirtless in the rain . . . and suddenly, in an instant and just for an instant, I am here. I am nowhere else. I am the field and the motion of the scythe and the falling of the rain and the movement of the muscles in my back and shoulders, the sideways motion of my stiff hips and I think nothing at all. I just mow. I just move. I just am. For a moment I just am.
Sometimes, when you least expect it, you are given a gift."
Grace, enlightenment, call it what you will, but certainly, a gift.