What if ancestors were not ahead of you in line (nor behind you in something some call “time”) but were all around you, all about you, sustaining you as you sustain them? You may get your hazel eyes from your father, your gait from your mother, and your grey hair from your children, but you get your bread from the bread delivery guy, and the farmer, and the wheat plants, and the bee, and the microbial animals, and that star above. We are ancestors to one another.
:- Doug.
