A woman sits at her desk. She has sat at that desk…or others like it…for years. Some of the things on the desk have changed, some remained the same. That’s also true of her. She is aware of the passage of time and the wisdom that has come with it. She is aware of opportunities lost and possibilities made real, of risks avoided and risks taken, of choices made.

She sits at her desk and understands that the things that make it her desk are the things that have made it her life. She sits and thinks profound thoughts and silly thoughts, and sometimes isn’t sure which is which. Because she is a woman, hidden behind her profound thoughts and her silly thoughts is the practical awareness that there are always always chores to be done.

The Irish have a saying: There is music all the way through the fiddle. A woman sits at her desk, and the music of her fills the room.

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