Las Raíces Invisibles: Finding Strength in What Anchors Us
The morning fog hangs low over Barcelona today, transforming the familiar into something mysterious. It's just past 9 AM on this early October Thursday, and I'm perched at my window with my second coffee, watching the city emerge like a photograph developing in solution. Yesterday's meditation on pauses has evolved overnight into something more textured—a contemplation of what truly anchors us.
Las raíces más fuertes son aquellas que no podemos ver.
I realized this at dawn when I ventured to the harbor earlier than usual, arriving before most of the fishermen. Only Mateo was there, kneeling beside his now-repaired boat, not working but simply resting his palm against its hull. When he noticed me, he smiled and said something that stopped me: "Sabes, Sofia, este barco no es fuerte por lo que ves, sino por lo que no puedes ver bajo el agua."
This boat isn't strong because of what you see, but because of what you can't see beneath the water.
How profound, this reminder that what anchors us often remains invisible to others. The foundations that allow us to weather storms aren't always apparent in photographs or stories.
I've been thinking about my own invisible anchors as I prepare for next month's journey to Vietnam. What steadies me isn't just my camera or passport or even my skills—it's the web of connections I've woven here, the morning rituals that ground me, the understanding I've developed of my own rhythms of creation and rest.
Perhaps this is another dimension of maturation—recognizing that strength doesn't always announce itself. That the most essential parts of our evolution might be happening beneath the surface, in quiet transformations that others cannot witness.
My photographs of Barcelona's harbor over these months tell an obvious story of changing light and seasons. But they also hold a subtler narrative—of how I've learned to see differently, to wait for moments rather than chase them, to trust the pauses between inspirations.
Tal vez la verdadera evolución es como las raíces de un árbol—extendiéndose lentamente en la oscuridad, invisible pero esencial.
As October unfolds, I'm learning to honor both what shows itself and what remains hidden—in my work, in this city I've come to love, and in my own becoming.
Sofia