Tuesday, 27 December 2011


"In those days, we imagined ourselves as being kept in some kind of holding pen, waiting to be released into our lives. And when that moment came, our lives - and time itself - would speed up. How were we to know that our lives had in any case begun, that some advantage had already been gained, some damage already inflicted? Also, that our release would only be into a larger holding pen, whose boundaries would be at first indiscernible." 

from The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes.

January 1st is one of the few days of the year that feels fresh, and like life has begun at last. The other day is the first day of the summer holidays, and the days when you finish something momentous - your last day at school or university. Perhaps there are other days that feel like that - the first day in your new house, your wedding day - but I have yet to experience them. I want to remember every day that I am living part of my life, and not just waiting in a holding pen.

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