I’ve been reading Lost and Found by Kathryn Schulz, and her writing struck me deeply. It’s profound, raw, and endlessly exploratory.

I’ve often spoken about the importance of sitting with paradox. About the power of both/and. That we can feel joy and grief at the same time. That struggle often sharpens our understanding of happiness. That only through darkness do we fully perceive light.

The word geek in me was thrilled by a linguistic gem Schulz shares; a reminder of just how powerful and truly is.

Did you know the English alphabet once had 27 letters? I didn’t. The 27th letter was “&”, the symbol we now know as the ampersand. Children used to end their ABCs with: “and per se and” literally meaning “and, in and of itself.” Over time, that phrase blurred into one word: ampersand.

How cool is that? And wasn’t just a conjunction. It was a letter. A building block. It signified possibility, addition, hope. It reminded us there was more.

But somehow, over time, we dropped it. We reduced the building blocks of our language. And, symbolically, we began to forget the power of and.

But the story doesn’t end there. We can reclaim it.

When we are willing to step into the space of another…

When we choose to hold grief and gratitude, doubt and faith, sorrow and wonder…

When we remember that we can be here and yearn for there…

Then we are becoming.

Then we are whole.

Then we are more and enough.