The sunset from my window, in Dublin
Church bells ringing; the clinking of beer glasses, happy chatter, Irish music playing downstairs, in the basement. Rainy, damp, dark weather outside – perfect, if I decide so.
I´ve never considered myself a particularly lucky person. Until now. Why would I? I´ve always had my share of difficulties and had to work very hard for every single blessing; I´ve enjoyed great happiness and equally great pain.
I thought being lucky was winning the lottery, finding the perfect people, having opportunities falling from the sky, receiving random treasures without moving a finger; not being hurt, at least not so deeply by the ones I love the most.
But now I know. Suddenly, I see: all I need is to look at this sunset, from my window, and I know.