Choosing What to Keep
I eventually dropped the seed pod into the trash. Its journey with me was over. It didn’t belong in my living room, and I didn’t feel compelled to give it a place of honor.
But the act of choosing—of noticing and deciding—felt important.
We don’t always get to choose what attaches itself to us. But we often get to choose whether it stays.
That applies to thoughts that loop endlessly, to grudges that dig in, to expectations that pull at us long after they’ve served their purpose.
Noticing is the first step. Removal comes after.
Sometimes all it takes is pausing long enough to look closely and say, “Ah. That’s not mine.”
The Walk Wasn’t Pointless After All
If you’d asked me before I got home whether that walk mattered, I probably would’ve shrugged. It was just a walk. Nothing happened.
But something did happen.
I crossed paths with a tiny piece of the natural world that followed me home and made me think—really think—about how I move through my days, what I carry with me, and how often I overlook the small interactions that shape me.
All from a seed on my pant leg.
It didn’t change my life. It didn’t unlock some grand truth. But it nudged me into awareness, and sometimes that’s enough.
So now, when I come back inside, I take an extra second. I check my shoes. I brush off my clothes. I pay attention to what came back with me.
Not because I’m worried about burrs.
But because I’m curious.
