It’s in the solace that I better understand the rat-race. For in the solace I have both the gifts of space and time to understand the rat-race, when I am otherwise consumed by the singular act of surviving it.

The bigger the call, the smaller the voice. Therefore, we’d be wise to ignore anything that’s shouting.

No voice is so loud that it can demand that we listen to it.

I laid in the grass one day instead of walking through my day. And what I found was that laying in the grass gave me an unexpectedly vast view of the sky. For while I walk under it as I incessantly rush to meet the demands of each day, I rarely look up into it as a means of celebrating the privilege of each day. So maybe I should spend more time in the grass and less time on my feet.