Hiding is a part of the natural world. It is in the protective quiet of the icy northern landscape. In the held bud of a future summer rose. In the snow-bound and slow pulse of a hibernating bear.
We hide in our mother’s womb until we grow and ready ourselves for our first appearance in the lighted world.
We live in a time of immediate disclosure. Our thoughts, imaginings and longings are exposed to light too much, too early and too often. What is real is almost always, to begin with, hidden.
Hiding is an act of freedom from the misunderstanding of others.