She’s the sum of every molecule…

I can tell you of a place but don’t expect to find this image there. Every time you look at her, she looks different. She’s the sum of every molecule of water that has ever flowed into her.

We’re not that different—everything we see, hear, taste, feel, every moment and every event—affects us emotionally on some level and is woven into our very being.

It’s not possible to go through life unaffected by what we do and what is done to us. Some things pass through leaving a barely discernible trace, while others leave craters, a landscape forever changed.

Wisdom comes in recognizing the latter for what it is, or was, and perhaps Newton said it best, accepting that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

In a river or creek, the residence time for a molecule of water is about two weeks.

And if relationships are imbalanced, for example, you’re putting far more into one than you’re receiving from one, perhaps it’s time to let that one go—accept its residence time for what it was.

And once again, for me, the images that resonate the most, and allow for introspection, are (almost always) about the water.

Nature’s message…

from the atmosphere.

sundog over clouds with crepuscular rays

[pärˈhēlēən] parhelion

a bright spot, sometimes called a sundog, in the sky appearing on one or both sides of the sun, formed by refraction of sunlight through ice crystals

Sometimes when you hear news, whether it’s expected or a bolt from the blue, it’s tempting to look for a sign. Some kind of a message that gives hope that all is not black and white. That there are things we just don’t know yet. On that morning after, I chose to find a message high in the atmosphere. No accompanying halos, one lone sundog. Bright and beautiful, just as she was.