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I think about my life in terms of dates and places: when my children were born, where we lived, where we vacationed. That's my framework, the ground, the clay of my life. Deep within, the spirit moves, carving its own path, encountering rocks and sandy spots that alter its course. Snowmelt drains into it, rains and rivulets add their own voices. Through all the twists and turns, it continually seeks its own level until it once again returns its contents to the eternal sea.
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