Wednesday 28 August 2013

Every moment is golden

I'm reading a volume of Anais Nin's diary, from the time she met Henry and June. I love Anais Nin in such a way I can't explain. She reminds me of myself.

'I have had masculine elements in me always... I acted delicately and yet as a man. It would have been more feminine to have been satisfied with the passion of other admirers, but i insisted on my own selection, on a fineness of nature which i found in a man weaker then I was. I suffered deeply from my own forwardness as a woman. As a man, I would have been glad to have what I desired.
Now Hugo is strong, but I am afraid it is too late. The masculine in me has made too much progress. Now even if Eduardo wanted to live with me (and yesterday he was tormented by an impotent jealousy), we couldn't do so because creatively I am stronger then he is, and he couldn't bear it. I have discovered the joy of a masculine direction of my life by my courting of June. Also I have discovered the terrible joy of dying, of disintegrating.




“Life moves on, whether we act as cowards or heroes. Life has no other discipline to impose, if we would but realise it, than to accept life unquestioningly. Everything we shut our eyes to, everything we run away from, everything we deny, denigrate or despise, serves to defeat us in the end. What seems nasty, painful, evil, can become a source of beauty, joy, and strength, if faced with an open mind. Every moment is a golden one for him who has the vision to recognise it as such.”

- Henry Miller




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