There is a buffalo on a ranch I drive by almost every day. I’m not sure, but the buffalo looks sad and lonely. I wish it were free to roam around and that it had friends.

In Desert Solitaire, Edward Abbey contemplated the lives of ancient cliff dwellers who made their homes far up above ground in caves in the rock of the Utah desert:

When we try to fit in or be the way that we think we should be, we tend to hold our stories back. But our stories are the very thing that makes us memorable and creates connection. 

In sixth grade, I played on the soccer team and secretly hated it. But all my friends were playing, and there had to be something wrong with me if I didn’t like it.