A broken spirit and a contrite heart

It’s true that how we spend our days is how we end up spending our lives.*
(Bernadette Jiwa)

What if the life we are meant to live requires a broken spirt and contrite heart as we yield to who we are and to what must bring?

Just a thought.

“A dream,” he said, “as it goes whiffling through the night air, is making a tiny little buzzing noise. But this little buzzy-hum is silvery soft, it is impossible for a human bean to be hearing it”**

(*From The Story of Telling: Always, Sometimes, Never.)
(**From Roald Dahl’s The BFG.)

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