From A Distance

From a distance, everything softens.

The world, with all its edges and wounds, settles into hues of blue and green—gentle, expansive, whole. The snow caps the mountains like a whispered blessing, and the rivers kiss the ocean without argument. It is peaceful there, in that view, where nothing feels so broken, and nothing seems beyond repair.

From a distance, the eagle soars—unburdened, unchained, free. It doesn’t hover over sorrow or pain or questions that ache in the silence. It rides the wind, trusting the current to lift it higher. And in that image, something inside me exhales. I remember there is more than the struggle beneath our feet.

Because from a distance… there is harmony.

Not the kind forced or fabricated, but the kind that always existed beneath the noise. It hums quietly through the trees, through the wide-open plains, through the hush of untouched places. Harmony that reminds us of who we could be, if we remembered we all belong to the same earth.

From that vantage point, there is no “us” and “them.” There are no walls or divisions. No bruised egos or bitter hearts. Just the shared breath of humanity and the miracle of life unfolding in real time. It’s the voice we’ve forgotten how to hear.

The voice of hope.

Hope that we can rise above. That compassion will win. That love still has the final word. It’s in the way the sun returns, the flowers bloom, the seasons change. It’s in the healing that happens in unseen places, in the way light filters through even the thickest clouds.

It’s the voice of peace.

Not the fragile peace of quiet rooms and uneasy truces—but the kind that comes from knowing we’re all part of something bigger. That we’re all trying, in our own flawed way, to find meaning, to find rest, to find each other again.

And it is the voice of every man.

Every woman. Every child. Every soul who has ever longed for connection, cried out for justice, or whispered a prayer in the dark. It’s our shared heartbeat. Our collective song. It’s the part of us that still believes the world can be better, and that we can be better in it.

From a distance, you can almost see the truth of things.

And maybe that’s what we need sometimes—to step back. To quiet the chaos. To rise above the noise and remember: we were made for more than conflict. We were made for love. For kindness. For each other.

Let us listen to that voice.

And let it lead us home.