I just finished pushing myself, maybe I was more drawn than pushed, to finish a particular book. I was half-way through before I realized the treasure for what it was. Reconciliation, yearning, the old self at war with the new. It was beautiful and heart-breaking and stirring. It has made me feel contemplative, which in my opinion, is the best sort of book. It pierced me just a little. It was recommended by a friend, one who's opinion on such things I greatly value but hardly ever agree with. Also something I enjoy, finding common ground.
I know that the above paragraph has nothing to do with this post. But I needed to write it for myself. Sort of as a reflection to look back on.
It has been a good week. Just enough to do but not too much. A perfect blend of people and quiet.