elegance

The tulip represents elegance. Elegance is completeness plus modesty. Nothing present is unnecessary, and nothing else is needed. Elegance is an essential element of The Examined Life.

I chose the tulip because it is recognizable, varied, simple, and beautiful. As I forage thoughts and ideas, I test each against a notion of elegance: Is it missing? Is it needed? It's a standard of creation.

love

The oak leaf represents love. Like love, the oak is proud, profound, deep-rooted, endearing, fragile, solid, flexible, plentiful, and all-encompassing. We are enabled and protected.

Neither is immortal, but in their way, they can last. There is a compounding quality: love begets love, and oaks beget oak.

Well, acorns.

self

The Crow is your host, partner, and big sister. Silly, a bit sad, and wise.

The Crow is me, Ellen Vrana.

“Vrana” means crow in Czech. Names are the sound at which we turn our heads; they call us to attention.

The self as an embodied vessel of all we are is deeply considered in The Examined Life.

Feel the warmth from these words and this extension of self across the cold digital connection. We exist together in this space.

connectivity

The pinecone represents connectivity.

I collect pine cones. Pine cones in my pockets, bags, and suitcases. Pine cones in my home, my office, and, to her delight, my daughter’s room. I gift them to people; I slip them into pockets and place them on benches and turnstiles. Who puts that there?

Pinecones are offerings, pieces of humanity, a bit of my warm, generous self.

And yet. They are different. Their height, weight, enclosure, range, dispersal, how they open or close, and whether they bunch or form individually. Who doesn't love pinecones?

pace

The snail represents pace.

To examine properly, one must slow down, even stop. The slower we go, the greater we look and the more we glean. And yet, we remain active, interested, and curious. Details matter, but so does the whole.

Of course, slow means vulnerability. We could miss out, be surpassed, or even forget.

The snail, a creature of measure, reminds us to pace. Steady, alert, contemplative, focused on the path's end.

beauty

The house represents beauty.

It's our nature to collect things. To surround ourselves with tokens. Things interesting, things memorial. Notions of ourselves, our lives. We hold items in our space, enclose that space in a house, and that house becomes a home full of things we find beautiful.

I often return “home” when selecting content for The Examined Life. Is it beautiful? Would I put it in my home? Will you like it?

empathy

The mirror represents empathy.

Empathy demands stern abandonment of self, shoving aside our emotional needs to make room for someone else’s.

And yet, how we see and care for others begins with how we see and care for ourselves. Not merely projecting our less-developed emotions but also extending our warm, generous selves. To others, to ourselves. All empathy is rooted in self-affirmation, self-love, and an insatiable desire for self-awareness.

creativity

The goose represents creativity.

Geese are loyal, intelligent, irritable, and protective. This goose is my creative self. When I began writing after a business career, my guiding figure was the Runcible Goose, from Edward Lear’s abstract poetry. “Runcible” means silly. It was a lovely avatar, but I outgrew Goose and moved on to Crow.

My goose is independent, curious, silly, moody, and occasionally obstructive. Layered feelings of the creative self.

communication

The bee represents communication.

Bees have complex social structures. Our understanding of bees is new; only in the 1930s did a series of experiments uncover the bee dance, subtle movements that communicate flower locations.

The Examined Life is about expressing and exploring difficult things. Pictures contribute and communicate, as do color, spacing, and, above all, illustrations.

My bee is named "Ste" after an incredible Romanian illustrator who created all these critters that help me communicate.

truth

The spider represents truth.

I see a spider and get a profound poke in my ribs. That poke is the truth: I'm terrified of spiders.

Truth is convoluted, subjective, inconvenient, and ignored. But what is true is true. It exists apart from desires, dreams, and constructed selves.

I fear spiders; I am reminded with a poke. Seeking, unearthing, collecting little pokes, serving them up, that is The Examined Life.

pause

The bench represents pause.

Outward-turned pause, a pause with a view. We sit on a bench, and we watch.

There is a moment of waiting and longing. Whether we sit or must from age or injury, a bench throws us together and re-positions our view. We become witnesses of small, simple acts of humanity.

The Examined Life is a record of the things I witness from my bench.

warmth

The teapot represents warmth.

Tea—the act of making and enjoying it—warms from the inside, slows us down and thaws us out. Tea enforces a connection to ourselves and others.

When I designed The Examined Life, I deliberately added things to make you feel loved. We most easily consider difficult things in the feeling of love. Surrender to truths easily ignored.

You are welcome; you are loved.

chance

The octopus represents chance.

Consider: From a multi-celled worm ventured forth us and octopods. Along meandering, purposeless, and diverse lines of existence. With no end goal and no commonality—yet, we both have eyes! Nervous systems! Playfulness! Friendliness! The miracle of existence.

But by the grace of something (eons of evolution, precise change, capricious spirit?), there go I! What else could I have become?

We cannot change chance. How reassuring.

originality

The apple represents originality.

Each one is new yet known. An abundance of differences. Apples are just like us. There is nothing you've felt that has not been touched before, perhaps even expressed. Join this imagined community.

But the originality of your being is still real. An original mind, an original being.

Every one of us apples.