John R. Miles

Instead, it celebrates the joins.

It creates wholeness exactly where the fragments used to be.

It turns the spaces between into the strongest part of the wall.

This is the between us meaning that Steven Sloman talks about, the intersubjective reality where my significance and your significance are locked together by shared conviction.

When the mortar cures, the roof of our architecture finally becomes a shelter.

It becomes a place where others can feel held, safe, and truly at home because they can see that the structure isn't just for show, it's built to endure.

But there's a catch that our modern world hates to hear.

Curing takes time.

We live in an era of optimization and instant wins.

We want the success now.

We want the death now.

We want the meaning today, but you cannot rush a chemical cure.

If you put too much weight on a wall before the mortar has cured, the whole thing will shift.

The stones will crack and the structure will fail.

The winner's curse is almost always a result of rushing the cure.

We overpay for speed.

We overpay for the certainty of a now over the integrity of a later.

We choose the fast win of a status symbol over the slow bond of a deep relationship or a long-term craft.

But true significance is a slow burn process.

It's the result of letting your choices and your values sit together in the silence until they become inseparable.