Life is nothing if not the details of time and place that identify the work and relationships that define our existence.
Ernest Hemingway once wrote, "Every man's life ends the same way. It is
only the details of how he lived and died that distinguish one from
another." How we work with the details of life defines not only our days
but also our capacity to love. Love happens in the context of the
smallest of acts. Our feelings are interpreted through the multiple yet
brief interactions that imprint in our frail memory and become the story
we tell about who we are and who we love. The tenor of our voice, the
softness of a glance, the patient waiting by the door, the listening of
what has been heard before says everything about how we allow the
details to shape our relationships and our heart.
Life of politic, life of fashion, life of society, life of spiritual consciousness.... etc, lies in the details.
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