Sunday, February 25, 2018


Sunday Reflection: The gift of age

I am at my kitchen table tonight, working on my article and presentation at the MLK50 event in Memphis in April (more info here). This one feels important; this moment has deep roots in the past and real potential for the future.

As I write, I sometimes stop and rework what I have done. It takes a while before it fits, before it takes the form it is meant to have. My dad sculpts sometimes, and I love to watch him do it. Watching, it seems that what he is looking for is in the clay already; he just has to reveal it. I wish I could write that way. Instead, I have to push things around, knock it all down and start over a few times, until the architecture is right.

And sometimes, it takes a while.

But I feel like this one needs to be just right.

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