People can be like this, too. They appear strong, unshakable, resilient. The world sees their potential and tries to shape them into something more, something else. And perhaps, for a time, they endure—weathering the cutting, the reshaping. But some cracks are too deep, too invisible to the eye. The pressure becomes too much. They break. Maybe if the process were slower—like stones tumbled smooth by the ocean, softened by time rather than force—they could transform without shattering. But the world often demands too much, too fast.
Sometimes, it’s better to let things be. To not see a stone and imagine what it could be, but to honor what it already is. The same is true of people. In our eagerness to mold, to refine, to bring out some hidden brilliance, we risk destroying something that was already whole in its own way.
The challenge is knowing when to shape and when to simply appreciate. Perhaps, if we listen—if we quiet our minds, soften our expectations, and open ourselves to the quiet hum of what is—we will hear what was never spoken, but always known.
