A pod of dolphins swims by. Their fins gently emerge from and resubmerge into the ripples of the ocean’s surface.
It’s so easy to look at the lines of zeroes that turn 100 into 100,000 and feel distantly devastated without grasping what death actually means: the souls gone, the people changed by loss.
On the space between acknowledging privilege and hatred in trying times.
Miracles truly do happen, even if those miracles are mushy rather than perfectly soaked.