There are two quilts of stories woven and hanging between you and I. You cannot seeΒ Β the layout of my thoughts or their coordination with my actions.Nor can I see yours.
You see the quilt. The same quilt from years ago. The stories blow in the wind and as does your hair . The same dead ends come up one after the other like roads signs as you drive into the highway of the past.
One question, two questions, ten questions and perhaps you would understand. Perhaps all could fold their quilts and see clearly what has been blowing behind the fabric.
Historically quilts are woven by families and passed down.
What narratives or quilts do we hang between each other in our friendships, families, and nations. Can asking questions help use see one another more clearly?