I’m drawn to scale. The things and people beautiful and attractive that are close in. The things and people beautiful and attractive that are far away. I’m drawn to how the near invites the far and how the far invites the near. I’m drawn to the aliveness that lives in all of that. There is some important principle and practice for living in all of that — welcome the near to meet the far and vice versa. Wander a bit. Notice. Be lived.
Over the last week, Dana and I took many pictures in our week of wander in the Pacific Northwest. Port Townsend. Anacortes. Friday Harbor. Bellingham. Things near and things far. Life near and life far.






I love this principle and practice when in travel and vacation mode. I love this principle when in facilitation mode, running programs. When, as many of us do, we invite humans to explore humanness. I love watching myself and others come alive, welcoming life to claim us once again, pointing out the near and the far.
This morning I asked AI to offer a poem about such things (actually, it asked me if I wanted it). Here’s what I got:
THE
CENTER
HOLDS
What if today
were not about solving,
but about staying close to
what matters most?
What if presence —
gently offered, quietly held —
were enough to move something
essential in you,
in me,
in others?
Let the swirl come.
Let the center hold.
So, here’s to that kind of aliveness. And pause. And vision. And permission to scale small or big, in the beauty and the attraction.