Of Books and Rocks

This morning as I move books from an old bookcase into a new one, each book that is moved represents a moment in my journey of life. A time of learning, a path of interest, perhaps fleeting, perhaps life altering. There are so many subjects, yet not more than two or three novels. I prefer books of facts, books on discovering life's mysteries, books of poetry that can stir your soul and books that take you further down the narrow road. I was thinking how each treasured book, is like a beautiful pebble in this bowl of rocks that sit on my table. Each one different in many ways, yet holding its own beauty for me.
We often forget to take time to look back over our lives and see the individual building blocks that have made us what we are. Seeing value in each thing, some for their beauty, some for the strength we got from the experience, and some for just being what they were.

If we take some time, looking at the many pieces that make up the whole of who we are, we can learn to appreciate both the good and the bad for what they have given us and for the strength we have found to move beyond the difficult, to gather the beauty we have been touched by and see a magnificent balance to make us the whole of who we are.

A sampling of books

A bowl of pebbles

More books.