I see a new world shine through the fog. Sunlight is different, and it reflects differently from the ragged surfaces of the old. Too many familiar things are seen through in their insubstantiality. An eternal summer is shining through, one you’ve met before in your heart, as a child, and even before that as an … More When The Fog Thins
Life moves the way vines do, quietly, patiently, winding where it can. Even when buried under concrete, it finds a crack. It doesn’t argue with obstacles; it learns their shape. Wise paths aren’t straight because beauty isn’t efficient. Much of what shapes us happens unbeknownst to us until one day we notice what has already grown around our bones. To live well is not to force the way, but to savor the tension and let what is alive find its own ascent. … More The Winding Vines
