What’s my story?
This beautiful flower caught my eye.... so delicate ... almost paper thin. Blowing about in the breeze.... yet seemingly strong, standing tall on its stem. Here am I assuming it’s delicacy or strength when I know nothing about it. How often do we assume to know others, how often do meet the behaviours we see and miss the person, the human in all their experiences. We are all the sum of our experiences which have led us to this moment, so how do we notice our own stuff enough to be able to meet others in theirs. Can we dare to let go of our assumptions and hear each other’s story ?