The more gnarled and wrinkled a tree is, the more we love it. And yet, we detest those same things in ourselves? Why do we fear wrinkles so much?
Whatever comes at me today, at least I’m not paddling a canoe with all my worldly goods and a two-year-old.
Why tell a child that crossing lines isn’t always easy? Why burden them with the idea that some lines are best left uncrossed, and it’s hard to figure out which ones. Better to send them out into the world excited to obliterate the many lines that need to be crossed.
A message sent to me, and you, from 1874 to the present.
Every day I clear small obstacles in my path. I must notice them and take extra measures to deal with them, but I manage, no problem. Am I allowing some bigger obstacle to block my path? How can I go around?
