Threads

Every day asks something of us, and in responding, we shed fragments we once thought essential, our certainty, our confidence, our connection to who we were. Hope appears as a fragile thread, pulling us onward even when we cannot see where it leads, even when the weight of living threatens to unravel us. Life is not static; we are not static. We change, sometimes imperceptibly, sometimes in ways that astonish even ourselves, and the threads we follow are never the same for any two people.