Reflections layer upon each other, especially at night. Every window bounces light back and forth, angled and fractured, splintered out of it’s original context and shape until it’s simply a glittering array of midnight stars, shifting as i take each step. It’s almost impossible to conceive the broadest sense of the whole vista as it’s overlaid with so many reflected images. That’s Vegas: a city of light, multiplied.
Ideas are like that: they fragment and coalesce into new shapes, interact with each other in strange and unpredictable ways. It’s been a week of ideas: reflecting, shifting, aligning, creating a new vista of thinking. A story reflected out of the chaos of debate.
As this chapter closes, as i start to think about the world outside this bubble, it’s time to start writing the story: what have i learnt, what has changed me, what have i changed. Where is the story going next: how has my narrative evolved through the week of sharing and learning.
The thing about reflections is that they are transient: you can never recreate them exactly the same. The story always changes. We just have to find time to reflect and narrate it as we go.