Today is Thanksgiving and I'm back with a Thoreau quote.
I went on a 4 mile run this evening and as I circled back I passed the parking lot near my home. The sun had set below the woods and a deep orange glow hovered over the countryside. The parking lot lights were strangely beautiful, almost holy, and the old corner restaurant didn't feel quite so ugly as usual. Parking lots are empty on Thanksgiving. The emptiness adds something queer and transcendental.
I edited a short essay last week. I had to trim it back from 500 words to 300. I don't do much editing, what with this being a blog and all, but it was a rewarding experience. I think we should all benefit by taking the time to remove superfluous things from our lives. If a parking lot can suddenly appear holy without all the traffic, how much more could a human life become? What new and glorious things can we add to our existence by removing the unnecessary?
"I am grateful for what I am and have. My thanksgiving is perpetual. It is surprising how contented one can be with nothing definite, only a sense of existence." - Henry David Thoreau
I went on a 4 mile run this evening and as I circled back I passed the parking lot near my home. The sun had set below the woods and a deep orange glow hovered over the countryside. The parking lot lights were strangely beautiful, almost holy, and the old corner restaurant didn't feel quite so ugly as usual. Parking lots are empty on Thanksgiving. The emptiness adds something queer and transcendental.
I edited a short essay last week. I had to trim it back from 500 words to 300. I don't do much editing, what with this being a blog and all, but it was a rewarding experience. I think we should all benefit by taking the time to remove superfluous things from our lives. If a parking lot can suddenly appear holy without all the traffic, how much more could a human life become? What new and glorious things can we add to our existence by removing the unnecessary?
"I am grateful for what I am and have. My thanksgiving is perpetual. It is surprising how contented one can be with nothing definite, only a sense of existence." - Henry David Thoreau
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