Our lives are partially the story of others, interwoven into our own. In the good and the bad and the things that time may shift to someplace in between. We are who we let our story make us into. Like the seasons that spin about us, we recycle some bits of our story and reuse other aspects to rebuild or grow from. Through it all, our lives crease along the odd and unexpected, yet are fed by the mundanely profound interactions that form the backdrop to the breaths we take, each day, each moment, as we continue on.
For The Daily Post