I found this thought written in a an old journal today, and I thought it was pretty inspiring. It was around the same time of year three years ago.
Vines growing on a tree are like imperfections. We don’t want them there but they are small symbols of beauty that make us who we are.
How simple yet complex is that! It’s entries like that that make me wonder if I have the ability to think that same way anymore.
Have a blessed day,