There are always bright spots in the darkening sky. That's how we see metaphors in constellations, Orion in the scatter of stars, Ophiuchus from disparate pinpricks of light.
We see meaning in what that may be essentially meaningless. Random clusters of rocks are imbued with myths. Within stars, there is an archer, a lion, the snake charmer.
We are meaning-making creatures, prone to see colours in drifting leaves. Apophenia: that's our tendency to attribute meaning to perceived patterns between unrelated things.
Sometimes, it's easy to be disheartened by young people, how they lose their temper for what may be trivial reasons. That vulgarity, that arc of marker across the classroom, that defiant tilt of the chin.
How easy to see patterns in these acts, a constellation of why not to be. How easy to forget the oft printed call to make a difference.
Much more challenging to remember the laughter within the classroom, the easy smiles along the corridors, the unexpected gifts between lessons.
There are many people to leave behind, many reasons to leave. How then to perceive the network of light to stay for, to remain for.
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