Years and Cycles: Seven, Eleven and Ninety-nine
  
      Near the end of December I am particularly conscious that the physical plane is a place of cycles.
     The wall calendar is augmented by a new one hanging underneath, and conversations turn to the theme of ‘where did the year go?’ and I connect again to the turning of the clock, the repetition of the seasons: long dark nights about to give way to extra slivers of sunlight as we cross that magical Solstice line.
     Like all cycles o...
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