A driftwood piece has traveled farther than the story you can tell about it.
CREATIVITY
CREATIVITY
Objects outrun the accounts we give of them. A piece of wood on a beach has a long history of storms, coasts and time in water, and the version you can tell begins at the moment you picked it up. That is true of most things you own and most people you meet: what you know is the tail end of something much longer.
Try letting an explanation stay unfinished this week. When you catch yourself summarising a person, a place or an object, add the words that you do not know the earlier part. It keeps you open to the parts that have not reached you yet.
What do you own whose history you will never fully know?
Free, with nothing to buy inside it.