Thought traffic
This week, my mind has been on a kind of accidental world tour. One moment, I’m watching political debates unfold and finding myself amused by the intensity. People defend their views like heirlooms, even when those views wobble under the slightest pressure. There’s something oddly human about it. The need to be right. The need to belong to an idea. Then, without warning, my attention softens. A single flower pushes through cracked ground, blooming in the middle of climate anxiety and environmental chaos. It feels almost rebellious. Fragile, yet determined. And suddenly I’m emotional over something that doesn’t need words to make its point. My thoughts keep swinging. Empathy gives way to anxiety. Curiosity drifts into prayer. I think about parenthood. The quiet pride when your child does something small but astonishing. The way a simple moment can rearrange your heart. But alongside that joy lives the weight. The sleepless nights. The constant low-grade fear. The sacrifices no...