We are used to thinking of life as a continuous line. A river that flows without stopping. But it isn't. Life is made of separate moments, with emptiness in between. We don't remember the whole path, we only remember the leaps. The moment I inhaled. The moment I let go. And the older we get, the longer the pauses between these flashes become. Perhaps wisdom is not the ability to see a continuous line, but the capacity to feel comfortable in the emptiness between the discrete points that actually make up who we are. PNG 5120x6400 36.5 MB Ready for print