Sometimes, when we look at the news or walk through a city park, it feels like everything is breaking. We see the scars on the landscape, the fading forests, and the heavy weight of human struggle. It is easy to feel like the world is too wounded to offer us anything beautiful. But Robin Wall Kimmerer reminds us of a profound truth: even in its brokenness, the world continues to nourish us. The earth does not stop breathing, and the sun does not stop warming our skin just because things are difficult. There is a quiet, persistent generosity in nature that persists even through the hardest seasons.
I think about this often when I am feeling a bit overwhelmed by the chaos of life. It is so easy to focus entirely on the cracks and the decay, forgetting that life is actually happening right inside those very spaces. We tend to wait for a perfect, healed version of the world to arrive before we allow ourselves to feel joy. But joy isn't reserved for a pristine paradise; it is tucked away in the weeds, in the stubborn wildflowers growing through sidewalk cracks, and in the way the rain smells even when the sky is grey. The world is constantly offering us small, miraculous gifts if we are willing to look past the wounds.
I remember a morning not too long ago when I felt particularly heavy-hearted. I was sitting by a small, murky pond that had been affected by a recent drought. The edges were dry and cracked, and it looked quite sad. But as I sat there, a tiny dragonfly landed on a reed, its wings shimmering with an iridescent light that seemed almost impossible given the surroundings. In that moment, I realized that the pond was still supporting life, still providing a home, and still offering a tiny spark of wonder. The beauty wasn't diminished by the drought; it was simply more precious because of it.
We can learn so much from this resilience. When we are going through our own seasons of hurt or loss, we can try to find the ways in which we are still being held and fed. Even when we feel fragmented, there are moments of connection, a warm cup of tea, or a kind word from a stranger that can sustain us. It is a gentle invitation to stop looking only at the scars and to start noticing the life that is still blooming alongside them. Today, I encourage you to take a slow breath and look for one small, unexpected moment of wonder in your own surroundings, no matter how much the world might seem to be hurting.