Almost everything keeping me alive right now — clean water, clothing, tools, a roof — was built by people I've never met, yet my first instinct toward the stranger down the street is rarely gratitude.
Tag
Reflections
3 articles with this tag.
What if sleep is not recovery for the day ahead, but the quiet goal the whole day was built to reach?
Some lives fade quietly; others leave a mark nobody can quite trace back to its source. Maybe that is the only kind of permanence any of us gets.