What Holds Us Up

Even a wounded world is feeding us. Even a wounded world holds us.

The world does not wait for us to be ready. It offers what it has: mineral, light, the patience of soil. We worry we must be whole to receive it, but notice instead how a tree grows through stone, how salt air reaches your lungs without your permission. The world's generosity is not conditional on our worthiness. It sustains us not because we deserve it, but because we are here. This is the texture of being alive.