# Endpoints

## The Frame of Our Paths

Every road has two ends. We walk between them, chasing horizons, but it's the endpoints that give the path its purpose. They mark where we begin, breathless with possibility, and where we pause, changed by the miles. On a crisp December morning in 2025, I stood at the edge of a frozen pond, watching skaters glide. Their loops seemed endless, yet each turn touched the shore—the quiet endpoint that let them push off again.

## Moments of True Exchange

Endpoints aren't endings; they're handoffs. Think of a conversation: it starts at one person's words and lands at another's listening ear. Or a hand extended across a table, bridging silence. These edges hold the real weight. Without them, motion blurs into nothing. In our rushed days, we skim the middles, but meaning brews at the borders—where one life touches another.

- A child's first step: from sitting to standing.
- A shared meal: from hunger to warmth.
- A goodbye hug: from presence to memory.

## Living from the Edges

What if we lingered more at endpoints? Not to dwell in finality, but to honor the shift. They remind us life flows not in straight lines, but in connections. Reach one, and another appears. It's a gentle rhythm, inviting us to notice.

*In the space between ends, we find our quiet strength.*