The word "spell" has a telling double meaning: both to arrange letters, and to cast magic. When we read, it's amazing how we can hear distant or even dead human voices telling us things, but at what cost?
Waiting is essentially about a desired future. It's the duration of time that is the obstacle between where we are, and where we want to be. No wonder it brings up feelings of discomfort, boredom, or even anger. But what if we could wait differently? What could we see?
For thousands of years, the sight of a star-filled sky has been a unifying human inheritance. The invention of the electric lamp in the late 19th century changed that. This has come with so many benefits, but what do we lose when we can no longer see the starry skies?
There are metaphoric mountains in the backdrop of all our lives. Standing strong through the different seasons, providing a steady reference point for all the change.
Can you point north from where you're reading this right now? Do you know what grasses are native to your area? Many of us are urgently connected to global news yet know very little about where we're at: our local people and places.
Did you know that when we blush, our stomachs blush too? And that our eyes are sensitive enough to see the light of a candle 30 miles away? It's an amazing thing, our bodies. And its fragilty is a core part of that beauty.
A crack, a wrinkle, or a moving cloud. If it's not forever, then it's fragile, at least on some timescale. Responsive to the sands of time. Alive. What reminds you of life's fragility?
It's predicted that the metaverse will soon rival and then surpass physical realms in many ways. If that's true, we're going to be spending a whole lot more time online. But what might we miss if this happens?
There's something about making physical movements with the body that helps us to be more intentional. Getting out of our heads and into our bodies gives us more clarity.
Seasons give structure, meaning, and momentum to our lives. Japan, inspired by classical Chinese sources, has 72 of these microseasons. Each lasts just a few days, making note of tiny, delicate changes in nature.