Thrives Outside

There's a welcome softness present in a structure that sees nothing but natural light. Since these walls were raised in the 1880s, no power lines run or incandescent bulbs buzzing. All that shines comes from the outside in, sun filtered through windows frosted and blurred to the world. What's beyond these walls exists in a fog that need not intrude on the cloistered experience — so long as it lasts. I spent much of my early life in that metaphorical mist, where the illusion of unknowing made me uneasy of learning more. But as my introverted heart grew wider, I felt a rising urge to surround myself with folks less like me. Still, the strange creature of culture is mostly decided without our input. Part of feeling whole is connecting to what we were assigned by birth. For me, that's elements of being Danish, Dutch, British, Canadian, and Christian. It informs my mindset, even when I'm wandering in opposite directions. Mythology is valuable, telling tales that define our language and perspective. But it doesn't have to be truth to have meaning, so I won't waste energy worrying what is. I was happy to discover that hope thrives outside the comforting blur.

June 20, 2025
Phinney's Cove, Nova Scotia

Year 18, Day 6431 of my daily journal.