In the heaviness of this world, I work to remind myself of first. Of how unnecessary my pointer finger is for clicking and how important my eyes are for collecting the captured. My heart bundles the broken just as much as the bliss.
Read MoreThere's a binding in the middle. You feel it. You see the elderly with softer eyes. The younger ones, too. You know the mistakes that they'll make; you have earned those scars. Things like touch and smell and stillness have a way of revival in your veins. Beautiful lives in those moments. Laughter feels deeper and rest comes just a bit easier. Lessons fall into your lap over & over again. Ones learned and ones still hard to swallow.
Read More