Fierce gladness.

I don’t know that we can move through this world without wonder–food, shelter, love, and wonder. It feeds us and keeps us moving, keeps us rising and setting with the sun, that tiny possibility that we will remember, tomorrow, to be surprised by joy. That tiny possibility that wonder will stick, that our first thoughts will be colored by optimism and underscored by hope with a fleeting (yet certain) belief that somehow, if we can keep rising and setting, we will find not only peace, but a life steeped soundly in fierce gladness.

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