Читать книгу Being Present - David Kundtz - Страница 27

Sylvia Plath, often a dark poet, gives us these joyful words:

I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, “This is what it is to be happy.”

This seems to describe a moment of insight, of happiness . . . which can often happen in an unexpected moment, like the inhaling of a breath (and air, mountains, trees, and people).