If you happened upon a small nutshell one damp, or crisp, but most certainly winter afternoon glinting at you and set apart just a tiny bit from all the other nutshells.
If you paid it attention and thought you saw it move, picked it up and placed it in the palm of your hand, for it is a small nutshell after all.
If you watched as it cracked itself in two.
What one word would be written inside it?
What one word story has found you right there in that moment?
Is it a story that makes you feel sad or glad?
Is it a story of what has gone or what is to come?
Does it ask to be worn around your neck on a silvered chain or locked away in a secret room?
What is in this nutshell that has found you?
And what will you do with it?
Mine says HOPE and I want to carefully hand paint it in beautifully delicate gold calligraphy across my bathroom mirror so that each morning when I awake and stare at myself bleary eyed, my one word story sits right across my forehead like a lucky charm, seeping into my mind and calling me to courage. The tiny pixies that keep the ideas flowing are rallied to action, know exactly which books to pull down from the not at all dusty shelves, for these pixies run a clean operation. They tap the microphone and read to me the exact right things I need to hear as I start my day. To keep my steps shuffling forward even though I know that long ago the path was left and I stumble through undergrowth not at all sure what, if any, castle has been conjured at its heart. All I need right this moment is my one word story in a nutshell that has me believe in the existence of the castle, I need no more.
So...
What is yours going to be and how will it ask to be seen or heard if at all?