Next time you are near trees, touch your palm to their bodies and think of all of history’s petrified wood, how each ring circling inside it tells a story.
What you need is to be admired. Acknowledged for your charm, wit, and elegance, in spite of what lurks underneath your royal garb.
I cannot connect with the idea of a calling that can be translated perfectly into a paycheck, a position, or a fixed identity associated with something I do. If I have one, my vocation is to be alive, to listen quite literally to my body and its rhythms: Every. Single. Moment. And to honor and ...