Resilience itself is nearly imperceptible when it is deeply at play. Something about the capacity to endure, to make the same small choice a hundred times in one day, one week, one month, seems to distort time. As with rain hitting water, you eventually lose the ability to see the reflection clearly and your eyes lose track of whatever image they were focused on. In this way, we have hypnotized ourselves. The repetition is a terrible meditation, a steady lumber, an invisible drudge in a foggy landscape, which is not without its own beauty.
This visual essay is a co-winner of our 2021 employee writing contest and appears in our book, Aren’t We Lucky? Stories of Resilience from the Inkhouse Community. Download your copy here.