Permission to ponder.

That’s Nancy. She’s sitting at Andrew’s desk at home in a tiny village, with the sunset that we had only seen in photos. And she’s looking at a screen, typing on Facebook.

For some people, there’s a critique. She should be looking at the sunset. Or talking to Andrew. (or taking a nap). It’s vacation, after all.

But what she’s doing, the night before leaving this apartment, is spending time making sense of some of the experiences of the week. Before going back to our daily lives on another continent, she’s making note of the daily life here.


There is deep value in reflecting on what’s happened, In writing, we often come to understand what we’ve learned. In pondering, we can sort through all the information and find some threads, some learning, even some enjoyment.

I’m aware, and perhaps you are, that we have remarkable amounts of information. Even this email adds to that information.

What I’m also aware of is that I need to unapologetically reflect, to ponder with impunity.

Not worry. Not fret. But to consider.

Not opine, not shout with judgement. But to sort through and observe.

It’s hard to stop. And it has value.