When we walk on a bridge or pier we see the “right side,” the side designed for traffic, the side meant to be exposed to the world. But what holds us up is the unseen underside, the structure that makes the rest possible.
What beliefs are so foundational for you that you rarely think about them?
This mailbox looks as if it’s been waiting for the mail to come for some time, with deliveries, perhaps, few and far between.
What have you waited and hoped for the longest?
We speak of things moving with glacial speed, the inch by inch pace of social change or changing a deeply-held habit. But while glaciers may not move rapidly, they reshape everything in their path as they go.
What slow process of change do you see in your life or the world around you?
If you could wash away the sands of time you might be able to see your roots—the things you learned in your earliest childhood, the teachings you gleaned from your parents and ancestors without ever being aware that you were learning.
What of your roots is visible to you at this moment?
There’s nothing so cute as a picture of a dog that’s befriended a rabbit, or a moose that is best friends with a cow. It warms the heart to think of love flourishing in unlikely places. But sometimes it is worth celebrating the ways in which we simply manage to peacefully share space with those who are near us: the neighbors or co-workers who we may not enjoy, but who have as much right to the rock as we.
How do you make space for people you don’t care for, or with whom you disagree?
