Loneliness, sometimes, not all times makes me think of Mary Oliver's words:

The Uses of Sorrow | Mary Oliver

(In my sleep I dreamed this poem)

Someone I loved once gave me

a box full of darkness.

It took me years to understand

that this, too, was a gift.

Recently, a fellow student student and I were on out way to an intensive but we wanted a coffee, then needed an Uber as we were late. I sat in the taxi, whilst my friend got the coffees, and the driver turned out to be an amazing teacher, from India - he spoke about how one can water from the ocean using a cup, however the water always somehow returns to the ocean ❤️

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