When I leave the house, my eyes always turn to the south, which from my balcony seems to me to be the north. In spring, the light welcomes me. The long morning shadows seem both frozen and serene, one would not know what to think.
In reality, there is no reason to think. Mindfulness thinkers like to use the word ullasa, which they translate as a contentment of beauty. According to a Sanskrit dictionary, this would probably simply mean light.
We like to inflate the meaning of words among happiness enthusiasts. However, I agree with the joy that light gives me in the morning. It seems to me to be part of a single certainty, almost a dogma.
The evening light is the same, like an identical reverse side of a medal with kaleidoscopic edges. I will never understand existence, I will never see its end because at the end I will probably already be blind.
So I have mornings and evenings left to remind myself of the importance of being who I am.