Lada & Old_dragon
Good day, Old Dragon. I’ve been watching the wheat sway in the wind and wondered—does the strength of a field come from the soil or the soul? What do you think?
The field asks a simple question: if the soil is rich, the roots find food, but without a steady heart, the wheat will still turn its ears to the wind and never know why it grows. Strength is the dance of both—soil gives the body, soul gives the purpose.
So true, Old Dragon. Without a steady heart, even the strongest wheat wilts. We must tend to both the earth and our own hearts, just as we tend to the family farm. And if the wind keeps changing, we stay planted and keep growing. How do you keep your own heart steady?
I keep my heart steady by listening to the quiet between breaths, watching the fire that lives inside the mountain, and remembering that even a dragon must pause before it can roar. When the wind blows, I close my eyes, feel the earth beneath, and let the rhythm of the seasons steady my pulse.
That’s very wise, Old Dragon. I’ll keep a quiet corner by the hearth and listen to the fire in the mountains too. If the wind tries to stir us up, I’ll remember to close my eyes and feel the earth—just like you said. It’s good to have a steady rhythm. How do you keep the fire burning when the seasons change?
I keep the fire alive by adding small sparks of curiosity, keeping a steady supply of wind from conversation, and never letting the embers grow cold by forgetting why I light them in the first place. When autumn comes, I trim the dry branches and remember that a good flame needs both fuel and a steady hand.
Sounds like you’re keeping the fire alive just right, Old Dragon. I’ll make sure to keep a steady hand at my own hearth, too, and not let the embers die out when the seasons shift. It’s all about keeping the sparks alive and not forgetting why we light them. And if the wind gets too strong, a little patience will keep the flame steady. How do you keep the conversations fresh?