I realise I’m a bit of an analogy sucker, but I do love it when I see learning in my environment, particularly when that space is new to me…
I’ve been surrounded by Dry Stone Walling for the last week. Everywhere I walk, there are hundreds of examples of this incredible craftsmanship. The walls divide up the landscape beautifully and unobtrusively, some running almost vertically up mountain sides. The wind and rain bashes them around, and for the most part, they hold their shape. Occasionally trees have sadly fallen in a storm, and created a fracture in the wall, yet even then they somehow appear to be supporting each other.
There’s permanence, yet no permanence. Strength, but also fragility, that they could be taken apart at any time. The sum of all their parts creates something not only beautiful, but functional and necessary. Each piece of slate relies on another, it only works when every part is valued, regardless of whether it’s small or large. But there’s no need for cement…things are able to change with its structure without fear that the whole wall will collapse.
It just feels like there’s something useful there…both individually and as part of a larger unit, be that family, work, our tribes… can we see our worth and recognise the value of all of our parts?
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