Even when I'm knee deep in muck and grind, I can catch a glimpse of something truly magnificent, and that glimpse pulls me up slightly so the muck and the grind that feels so depleting has less of a hold on me than it did.
It is exhausting, frustrating, exasperating, chaotic humdrum. But somewhere in the humdrum is a little spark of magic or a little whisp of loveliness. And you see it occasionally hiding within and beneath and beyond.
And when you look directly at it, it shimmers and shines and whispers, "And this is love."