By Stephen C. Schultz There is something about August that always makes me reflective. Backpacks begin appearing in stores. Teachers begin preparing their classrooms. Parents start talking about bedtimes again. Kids wonder who will be in their class, whether they'll make new friends, and if they'll recognize anyone when they walk through the school doors that first morning. Before every school year begins, I find myself thinking about another kind of classroom. The early morning dew dripped from the branches of the Douglas fir trees all around me. Ferns and waist-high brush soaked my pants from the knees down with every step. My head bobbed up and down in a steady rhythm, not because of music, but because I was trying to survive. I looked down to make sure my footing was secure and then back up to keep my fishing pole from snagging in the branches overhead. It was quite the process for a five-year-old making his way through the underbrush of the temperate rainforest we respectf...
Life presents us with experiences. We each interpret those experiences through the lens of our own history, relationships, struggles, and hopes. The same story can mean something entirely different to two different people, and that's not a flaw, it's part of being human.