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  • Very few things about my current life resemble my plans from five years ago. But the universe has given me something better than what I'd dreamed for myself. I have learned that change is where the stories live, waiting for me to give them a voice. Now I can watch the water fall and just be.

    That waterfall lasts a short time each year, thundering over the edge of the plateau like a dirty ribbon as it scours away soil and stone during the frenzied passage through the fields up above. And once the snow is gone, once the land is finished flushing the overload of water away, the waterfall slows to a trickle, to a drip, and then to nothing. Only a hard rain can bring it back.

    Most of the time, the echoes of the waterfall are trapped in the rocks, heard only as memory. That moment of change, when the water comes rushing over the edge each spring, is a moment of beauty and inspiration.
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