Love gives meaning to the landscape. I might believe I’m looking out over an ordinary pond or meadow, but to someone, it’s the most sacred space in the world. All the stones are precious ones, all the forests have magic in them, and every city street is home sweet home to someone.

After an unknown distance, I realized that I’m not trying to look up or out from the valley anymore. I haven’t thought about what I’ll do with my day, what I should’ve done with yesterday. Right now, I’m in it—in this place, in this walk, in this whole world contained in a wisp of light. And it’s darkness, visual silence, showing me the way.

I found something in the forest that I once lost.

It was hanging on spider silk and dripping with the sun.

It was tucked into the palm of a young leaf.

It was a secret shared between birds that somehow, I understood perfectly. Urgently.

There were times when I used to play small and shrink in order to make sure people in my life felt ok. Walking shifted that. On one windy, cold, icy morning, I became curious. Why do I do this? How is this behavior helping/supporting me?

I hear a lot of discussion about the quest for balance. I don’t think there is a place called balance. Life is in constant flux, so balance can only be temporary; therefore, seeking it as a desired end state is impossible. I think what I seek is not balance, but harmony.