I wrote this a year ago, not long after Ursula K. Le Guin died. I thought I'd share it with you, my friends:

I am reading A Wizard of Earthsea. Again. I read it once before, when I was very young, and enthralled by worlds of wizardry and magic. I would be a sorcerer, I felt deep within myself I had it in me. I was very much like Ged-proud, and foolish, and envious of those who mocked me.

I grew, and I studied mathematics. For it is very much akin to sorcery-the power to understand things as they are, to know their true names. And, indeed, I learned some witchcraft of my own, to weave spells with words. Some of these words have power, I have seen the results in those close to me.

Of course, like many a young man, what I wanted most were love-spells, the ability to summon the fairest of maidens. For the fountain of one's innermost desires is a force that it is too old and powerful to ignore. And some of these spells have worked too well. For, like Ged, I did not understand that to bring something into being, is to start in motion things that cannot be undone. The world does not exist solely for my pleasure, and that must be reckoned with.

And just so, as I read the tale of this young man, where once I read his life as heroic -what I wanted- (so desperately) now, I read it with remembrance, and more wisdom. And it brings me to tears. I marvel at Ursula's skill; how, having never met me, can she know me so well?

I have one last great Naming in me, yet. And it requires of me, nothing, for I only can do what I must, and only when it is time. I wait. In the meantime, I will fashion such simple blessings as I can, like a village witch, to brighten my remaining days.

Thank you, Ursula.