December 24, 2020
It is another wintry Christmas eve. Christmas is o.k. for most, but I am one of those for whom it is mostly a thing to be survived rather than celebrated. There are reasons for this. There are always reasons, and reasons do not care whether they are good or bad. They are satisfied to just be. In some ways, the things that are satisfied to be are more complicated than those that try to explain. They are able to encompass more. Then can contain galaxies of possibilities where the first word of the explanation begins to limit what can follow.