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Florence in Words

Depression and Immobility

As I made my bed this morning, I thought, how easy it is to smooth out the wrinkles, line up the pillows, pull up the quilt. It takes only less than a minute, and yet, some mornings I avoid the ritual. Is it a sign of health to make my bed or to ignore it? Or is the question irrelevant? Am I searching for meaning in a world that seems purposeless? Or if the world is not purposeless in general, still, I can find no purpose in it for myself. Yes, my friends tell me this is simply the aftermath of finishing a huge project. The slough of despond—does anyone remember that expression?—will soon depart and I will be engaged in a new project, feeling hopeful again. Read More 
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Reviews

I just received news of two new reviews coming in. A man--at least I think it's a man--who has a regular blog, just wrote a long and sensible review of A Life in Motion. It's amazing to me, and I've written to him asking why he did it. With reviews, one must depend on the kindness of strangers. Read More 
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